


Love's Truest Language

by summerwine



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Body Shots, Bottom Louis, Explicit Sexual Content, Flower sex, Hate to Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 16:59:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 48,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10701240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerwine/pseuds/summerwine
Summary: The first part was meant as a joke. He didn't really expect Harry to buy anything. It was just Louis’ way of softening the ‘get the fuck out’ blow.“Where's your order forms, then?”“I don't want your flowers.” Louis chided before directing all of his attention to the arrangement in front of him.Harry laughed under his breath as he stood to his full height, “Who said anything about them being for you, love?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [Eden](http://www.victoryjacket.tumblr.com) for brit-picking this to death and being the best person to brainstorm with. Thank you to [Rosie](http://www.doctorrainbows.tumblr.com) for fixing all of the location details and talking me through my tantrums. And thank you to everyone who encouraged me along the way. Hope you enjoy!

Evening settled over London as Big Ben chimed on the hour, echoing, and rattling through the city’s walls. Dusk and sunlight faded from behind the dewy brick buildings and was languidly washed out by a starless midnight sky.

Louis paced the length of his weathered balcony, flicking nervously at the end of his cigarette, and watching curls of smoke wisp away into the darkness. His side of New Cross was maddeningly silent for a Friday night. An area crawling with uni students, and not a single drunken soul stumbling through the streets, clinging to their last bit of sobriety, to show for it.

It was quite strange and moderately unsettling.

Nicotine coursed vigorously through his system. His hands jittered and his skin began to crawl with anticipation. He’d been living in his new flat for nearly six months and never once imagined his nights to be so dull. So quiet. He expected his experience to be as rousing and invigorating as the pent up energy inside of him.

Louis knew London was alive and thrumming, somewhere at this hour, and the seeming lonely streets were nothing short of a facade. He needed to let loose. Needed to rid a bit of the vitality within him, and the stodgy walls of his flat did little to restrict that desire.

He inhaled one last sharp drag before stubbing out the blackened ash and blowing the smoke toward the wind. Carefully, he clambered through the narrow opening of his jammed sliding door, cursing under his breath as the building’s brick scraped against his skin. Fuck, he would have to clean that.

12:09 am.

There was just enough time for a quick shower and a fresh pair of pants. Maybe he would give Perrie a call and see if she’s up for it. Only, he’s sure if she’s not calling to go out by now, it was lights out for her.

He pressed his palms gently into his temples, relieving some of the built up pressure behind them.

He could do one night alone.

Take London by storm with his own bare hands whilst taking some of the edge off. It didn’t sound like such a hardship.

He rapidly slipped out of his cigarette stained clothes, chucking them into the laundry basket, and tiptoeing across his chilly floors. He pried open the door to his en suite and swiftly wriggled the shower’s knob to the hottest setting.

Perhaps the sweltering steam would help warm the chill from his bones.

Perhaps a drink or two would do the same.

 

\--

 

He was somewhere in Brixton.

The roads were narrower, the buildings stacked against each other, and the borough left little to no elbow room for its inhabitants. On top of it all, the streets were packed. Lads fruitlessly trying to chat up girls. Smashed glass and overflowing bins of rubbish scattered across the walkway. Spilled rum soaked through the walls of the buildings and wafted its way into Louis’ senses. It was filthy.

Louis needed to get in there. Needed to get his hands a bit dirty.

He scurried his way to the nearest club, slinking through his peers, and dodging shoulders by the skin of his teeth. The glaring neon sign above the establishment’s door shimmered against his skin and cast a necessary glow over his wallet.

A pound per entry was unheard of in this immensely overpriced city.

As he tucked away his wallet, and trotted down the staircase at the entrance, the corners of his mouth lifted into a smile. Apparently, the DJ’s playlist consisted of top tier 90’s R&B.

 _No Scrubs fading_ into _No Diggity_ and sending the crowd into a fit of glee transitioning to _This Is How We Do It_.

The floor was upholstered in flashy leopard print and the walls were made of smudged and fingerprinted mirrors. Beams of light bounced off the glass and drinks sloshed over onto the sticky floor. It was disgusting. But it was just the type of scene Louis had been looking for.

Young, grimy, and cheap.

His eyes scanned over the expanse of sweaty bodies grinding and hanging off each other. The bar top was cramped tightly into the corner of the club with a queue that nearly wrapped it’s way around the dance floor. Fuck.

He breathed in slowly as he maneuvered his way through the dense crowd. As bodies swayed to the music he squeezed his own through the spaces between them, stubbornly making his way to the bar. He didn’t come all this way for nothing and he was so close he could almost taste it.

Finally, he reached the end of the queue. His nervous hand made its way through his fringe, fixing and pushing his hair back to his liking. It was a force of habit. He couldn’t keep still for too long. His eyes shifted toward the mirrored wall next to him and caught a glimpse of another set of eyes staring back. Timidly, he peeked over his shoulder to seek out anyone watching him.

Nothing. No one.

Just the masses of drunken youth dancing and drinking the night away.

He slightly curled in on himself and moved a half step closer to the bar. People passed in front of and behind him. Shout’s of _’scuse us mate_ and lingering hands on his hips were becoming irritating. There was no need to be felt up, especially since he moved out of the way.

Whatever. Nothing a shot or two couldn’t do to help him forget.

He waited patiently as the queue seemed to be at a stand still. The heavy bass of the music thumped in his chest and the contagious rhythm wrapped itself around his waist. He couldn’t help but dance right there in his spot. Hips slightly twisting and shoulders swaying to the beat.

He felt eyes on him once again. Burning hotly into his backside and tracing his every move.

“Oi!”

Louis nearly toppled over as some bastard pummeled roughly into the back of him.

“Shit! Sorry, mate-” Louis turned, ready to give his obnoxious arse a piece of his mind, but was met with bloodshot eyes, and a burly man, roughly a foot over him, “Mmm, you’re f-fit."

His words slurred together and tangled inside of his mouth. He was plastered. No use in entertaining anything he had to say.

Louis brushed him off and attempted to step back in the queue.

“Hey-“ Louis’ arm was jerked back and he was quickly spun to face the incoherent man, “I said y-you were fit! Come dance with me.”

“Piss off!” Louis yanked his arm back and stumbled backward from the force of it.

The man looked angry. As if he’d never been denied anything in his life. Louis swallowed down the ember of nerves rising in his throat and stood tall to defend himself. His heart was nearly beating out of his chest as the man unsteadily staggered towards him in a fit of rage.

Fucking _hell_ , Louis raised his hands in defense and braced himself for the pummeling–

“Take a fucking walk, pal!” a deep, guttural, voice cut through the madness.

Before Louis could register the person behind it, the inebriated lad was being tossed out of the club by the lapels of his dingy jacket.

Fucking twat. He probably wouldn't even remember this all happening.

Louis clutched his hand to his chest. Adrenaline unrelentingly coursed through his veins as he desperately tried to catch his breath. This night out in London was no joke. Maybe the safety of his quiet neighbourhood wasn’t so bad, after all.

“All right, love?” gentle hands gripped his shoulders and glossy green eyes met his.

Louis’ breath caught in his chest _sharply_ as he took in the vision before him. Carefully coiffed curls falling against broad shoulders. Red lips, slightly frostbitten from drinks he’d been nursing. Chiseled jaw line and defined body to match. He was absolutely gorgeous.

Louis pinched his eyes shut and willed himself to calm down.

“Let’s take you someplace a bit quieter, yeah? Y’look a bit shaken up.”

Louis nodded his head wordlessly and allowed his hand to be engulfed in the attractive strangers own.

He let his eyes wander across the man’s skin. The sleeve of his shirt clung to his muscles in an all too appealing way and intricate tattoos littered across his glistening body. Louis could hardly make out what they were. Too distracted by the flex of his tricep every time he squeezed Louis’ hand a little tighter.

He snapped out of his trance when he realized he was being pulled through a door and into a private area.

“I usually come back here to breathe when the air gets too thick.” dim lighting and velvet walls surrounded the two of them. A floor to ceiling pole gleamed proudly in the center of the room and a single couch sat beside it, “If you couldn’t already tell, this place used to be a strip club.”

Oh. That would explain majority of the decor.

“Now that you mention it," Louis chuckled under shaky breath, “It actually does give off that vibe."

The man next to him snorted out loud and squeezed gently at Louis’ hand. Shit. He didn’t even realize their fingers were still intertwined. He slowly removed his hand, and silently prayed it didn’t come off as rude, or uncomfortable. He’d gladly hold hands with this beautiful stranger all night.

“Oh, sorry, mate,” he ran a nervous hand through his curls and turned to face Louis, “I, um, I’m Harry.”

_Harry._

He reached a hand forward and gently took Louis’ in his own.

“Louis.” he introduced shyly with a faint blush and a wobble in his voice. Pretty boys always seemed to turn him into a bashful puddle of mush. This one especially, it seemed.

“It's nice to meet you, love. M’sorry for what happened out there,” he shrugged apologetically, “Lad had you on his radar from the moment you walked in. The look in his eye was a bit scary, actually. Felt like it was only right if I kept an eye on you two, and as soon as I saw him ram into you, I knew I had to get in there.”

Louis’ insides turned at the thought of someone plotting against him. He was incredibly lucky Harry - practically a stranger - was looking out for him.

That was sweet. He didn’t have to do all of that.

“Thank you, that's very kind,” his lashes fluttered without permission and his lips cocked into a smile, “But I think I could’ve taken him on, yeah?”

The obviously false statement caused a string of giggles to fall from Harry’s mouth, and they went on for about a minute. Louis didn’t find it _that_ funny.

“I admire your confidence, babe, but he was at least twice your size, and at least twice as pissed as you,” he rubbed a soothing hand against Louis’ shoulder and let a soft smile slide onto his face. Ahh. Dimples. “Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll make us some drinks, yeah?”

_Yes. Yes. Yes. A million times, yes!_

Louis wouldn’t mind sharing the evening, in this intimate space, with a man who was as sweet, as he was gorgeous.

“Wait–You work here?” instead fell from his mouth. What was wrong with him?

“Only when the funds are low,” his hand slid from Louis’ shoulder and clasped around his wrist. Louis’ heart rate picked up at the gesture and he prayed Harry’s fingertips were unable to track the pattern, "The owner has been a family friend since I was in nappies. I mostly come to drink for free."

“Sounds like a sick job,” he wasn’t sure what he was saying anymore. He needed a drink immediately, “You aren’t here with anybody, right? I wouldn’t want to interrupt.”

“I’m here with _you_.”

He winked.

He fucking winked.

The cheek on this one was something fierce and it was one hundred percent effective. Louis blushed bright red and tried his best to hide behind his hand. It was useless. Harry’s smug little snickers still rang clearly in his ears.

“You’re already insufferable.” Louis shook his head and laughed along with him.

“Well that’s no way to thank someone, who saved your life, not even five minutes ago.”

Louis rolled his eyes with mirth and slowly extracted his wrist from Harry’s grip.

“Shouldn’t you be on your way to the bar?” he shakily plopped down against the only couch in the room and stretched his limbs leisurely, “M’going to need at least a few drinks in my system if I’m spending the evening with you.”

Louis peeked over his shoulder and caught Harry with his lip tucked between his teeth, and eyes focused on the exposed skin of Louis’ hip. It would have been a bit creepy for anyone else to ogle him in this way, but with Harry, it was slightly arousing.

“D’you like amaretto?” Harry’s mouth curled around each vowel and his tongue pushed each T against his teeth. His voice was hypnotizing.

“Don’t know,” Louis spoke soft and unhurried. Dragging the words slowly across his lips, “But I’ll try anything once.”

It was enough of a hint to let Harry know he was interested, without crossing a line if Harry wasn’t.

It seemed that he was indeed interested, though.

Harry smirked at his tone and backed up towards the door, “I’ll be just a minute,” he slipped between the opening, winking once more before completely disappearing, “Don’t move.”

Louis certainly did not intend to.

 

\--

 

  
A splash of grenadine each was enough to stain the plushest parts of their lips. Amaretto sours and shots of tequila lingered on their breath as the conversation between them drew them nearer. Orange peels, cherry stems, and empty glasses stacked high on the ground beside them. Condensation seeping into the floor below.

They would worry about the clean up later. For now, all they could focus on was each other.

“I’ve never seen you around here before,” Harry’s words dripped from his mouth as his hand crept higher up Louis’ thigh, “Where’ve you been hiding, love?”

Louis swallowed hard and willed his body not to shake. Harry’s sugar coated lips were only a breath away, luring him in with every word. He wanted a taste. Wanted to know if each mixed drink he downed tonight, would pale in comparison.

“M’not from here, actually.” he shrugged. It wasn’t _technically_ a lie.

“Mhmm,” dimples etched their way into Harry’s cheeks, “Knew that pretty mouth was too northern for Brixton.”

Louis threw his head back in laughter and felt a heated stare on the columns of his neck. The feeling was almost too much. He knew he could have Harry eating out of the palm of his hand by the end of the night. He just had to play his cards right.

“Pretty, yeah?” he subconsciously ran his tongue over his lips and bit down intentionally.

Harry followed the movement from under his lashes. Easy smile on his face and hand tracing patterns into Louis’ thigh, “Very pretty. Could stare at your lips all night.”

His gentle hand slowly moved from Louis’ thigh, up against his his torso, and rested comfortably in the crook of his neck. Louis’ skin stung pleasantly just by the touch of Harry’s hand.

Harry leaned in closer, pushing Louis further into the cushion of the sofa, and slightly hovering over him, “Could kiss them for just as long, as well.”

Louis blushed and hid his nervousness behind a breathy laugh, “Not sure you’ve earned it, mate. Takes a bit more than free drinks and a few lines to plant one on me.”

He was teasing but it seemed to be working.

“No? How about saving your life earlier, hmm?” he wittily offered, “Does that help my case at all?"

“Oh. Right. Nearly forgot about that.” Louis bit down a playful smile.

“You never did properly thank me.” his eyes darted down to Louis’ lips as his soft thumb dragged against them.

“No?” he twisted his fingers into the springy curls at the back of Harry’s neck, “Let's fix that, then.”

Louis tugged him in closer, and firmly pressed their lips together. Harry moaned in surprise, causing Louis to giggle, and leave plenty of room for Harry to slip his tongue in. The quick chain reaction was electrifying and sent Louis’ senses ablaze.

His taste was sweet and sour. Maraschino cherries blended with liquor, and something so naturally sweet that it could only belong to Harry. Louis was right. There wasn’t a mixed drink out there that could compare.

Harry dove deeper. Swirling his tongue gently against Louis’ and nearly coming undone each time Louis pulled back for air. It was as if he couldn’t get enough and Louis couldn’t either.

Harry’s hand traveled from Louis neck, down to the waistband of his trousers. His fingers dipped in but never ventured further. Too distracted by the tiny whimpers escaping Louis’ lips.

Louis wanted more. _Needed_ more. Could feel the edge disintegrating with each fiery touch.

Boldly, he pushed Harry off of him. Wet lips separated with a smack and their eyes brimmed with lust. Louis leaned up and positioned one leg on either side of Harry.

“Touch me, please."

Eager hands engulfed the clothed skin of Louis’ arse. Kneading and squeezing in such an incredibly irresistible way. Louis heatedly crashed their lips back together, teasingly biting at the plushest part of Harry’s bottom lip, and slipping his tongue in on a moan. Harry began to grind up against Louis. Controlling the pace with his enormous hands and keeping them both longing for more.

It was maddening. There were hundreds of people outside these walls, dancing along to the booming bass, completely unaware of what was happening just a room over. The thought alone made Louis shiver and Louis’ trembles went straight to Harry’s cock.

“Mmm,” Harry whined and slowly pulled away from Louis’ lips, “Let me take you to bed, baby. Please? Can’t do what I want with you in public.”

Fuck. Louis wasn’t going to make it to bed if he kept talking like that.

“Y-yeah, yeah alright.” he breathlessly pushed their lips together and quickly stood from his position.

“I’ll clean up here while you flag down a cab, yeah?” Harry stood to his full height in front of Louis and pulled him in by the belt loops.

“Sounds good,” a dreamy smile spread over Louis’ lips before Harry kissed it off of him, “I’ll be waiting.”

He attempted to step back but was quickly pulled back in. Harry slipped his free hand into the back of Louis’ hair and pulled, causing Louis to go weak in the knees, and gasp out unexpectedly. Hungry lips roughly attached to his neck, biting, licking, and kissing as he pleased. Louis’ cock pressed up against his jeans as Harry sucked wildly at his skin.

There was no better feeling than this. There couldn’t be. Harry marking him up, just as they were about to separate, and taking his sweet time making the bruise obvious enough.

Louis was positively in heaven.

Harry allowed himself one last suck and pulled off with a wet smack. He admired the quickly darkening skin and slowly lifted his gaze to Louis’. There was a softness behind it. Something warm and inviting with a hint of desire.

“Just in case anyone gets any ideas.”

The two of them slipped into a fit of laughter. Harry was ridiculous but Louis was more than happy to be on the receiving end.

“I’ll see you outside, yeah?” Louis’ eyes twinkled as he awaited confirmation.

“Yeah.” Harry pressed a quick kiss to Louis’ forehead and got a head start on collecting their rubbish.

Louis wasted no time. He slipped out of the door and eased himself back into the madness of the club. It seemed the crowd had doubled in size and he was glad to be getting out of there.

He needed to breathe and he needed to be fucked breathless.

He squirmed his way through the crowd, only using elbows when necessary, and shouting out a string of excuse me’s. He climbed up the seemingly never ending staircase, legs slightly wobbling, and alcohol slowly catching up with him.

Eventually, he reached the top of the stairs. The cool air of the night lured him out of the door and onto the street. Cabs lined the walkways. Ready and waiting for profit. Louis figured they’d be alright. There was plenty of empty cabs out for Harry and him. It wouldn’t be likely to change.

He dropped to his bum on the edge of the walkway and peeked once over his shoulder. He had a clear view of the entrance so he wouldn’t miss Harry’s arrival.

He fiddled with his fringe, fluffing it in and out of place until he was satisfied. His hands couldn’t keep still though, so he pulled out his mobile, deciding to send Perrie a quick text about the night he had. Not going too deep into detail but enough for her to fret over.

A few minutes passed and Louis took another peek over his shoulder. Nothing yet. The wind picked up a bit and the dropping temperature of the summer night nipped at his skin. He rubbed his hands up against his arms and tried to accumulate any and all body heat. Maybe Harry would share his.

Louis tried not to focus on the chill and instead watched as a massive group of girls stumbled up the stairs, and out onto the pavement. It was really quite the scene.

Heels clacked and scraped against the concrete floor and the tipsiest of them all tripped over herself, quickly dissolving into a fit of giggles. Louis laughed along with them, but couldn’t help but wish they’d stop clogging the exit.

He decided to get off his arse and help. It would keep him moving and it would kill time while Harry dealt with his business inside.

He just hoped he wouldn’t be much longer.

 

\--

 

Last call had long passed, every last cab had been hailed, and Louis was still waiting. Completely sober by now, he was mostly still there out of pride. Hoping Harry would come out just so he could give him a piece of his mind.

But he didn’t. He never came.

The last man to leave out of the front eyed Louis suspiciously but continued on his task of locking up and walking away.

Louis wasn’t expecting this. He definitely wasn’t expecting to feel so hurt. He wished he could sit here and dwell on it for a few hours just to get it out of his system. But as his eyes grew heavier and his body began to beg for sleep, he finally decided to get on his way.

He’d never forget that face. He’d never forgive it either.

 

\--

 


	2. Chapter 2

Autumn was upon London. The leaves had turned from deep shades of green to brittle shades of orange. Each inhale was slightly more crisp than the last, and the softness of the morning dew became stickier, and icier.

Louis buried himself deeper into the wool of his jean jacket as he braved the chill. His scuffed trainers squelched as he tiptoed around the puddles on the cobblestone walkway, and the books inside of his bag ricocheted against each other.

Mornings like these were his favourite.

Vivid shades of gold and scarlet seamlessly blended across the morning sky and accompanied Louis as he made the short walk from his flat, to his shift at the flower shop. Climbing roses wrapped their way around the building, and shed their petals as the autumn wind picked up, littering the walkway in shades of pink.

The faint aroma welcomed Louis as he unlocked the shop’s door and quickly slipped inside.

Contemporary arrangements overflowed onto the sleek shelves they were placed upon. Minimal trinkets and gifts decorated the rich wooden chests that lined the walls and gave the shop a rustic feel.   
It was all a bit chic. A little too posh. But the fairy lights that hung from the brick walls brought it down a notch, and Louis had come to adore the place anyway.

He unhooked his bag from around his arms and shoved it under the counter. He didn’t have any lectures for another few hours and morning shifts weren’t known to be busy.

He stepped into the back room and gathered his gardening apron in his hand. No gardening was technically ever done here. Most flowers were delivered in bulk. But it was the only requirement when it came to dress code and Louis didn’t mind looking like he knew what he was doing.

He tied the thin cloth around his waist and collected the leftover materials of the arrangement he was currently working on.

The shop’s owner presented him with the task of incorporating purple orchids, mini bamboo, and green carnations. The instructions were vague: _just make it look zen_. He clearly remembered rolling his eyes at the suggestion, but also clearly remembered going home that night to look up the definition. He had no experience in floral design but he also never said no to a challenge.

It was relaxing in a way.

Creating something new and original with his own hands. Snipping, twisting, and positioning the stems and petals brought him some sort of unexplainable joy, and it relieved an incredible amount of stress uni piled on. He was grateful he could start his mornings like this.

Diligently, he manipulated the flowers to fit the vision in his head. Carefully tying the crisply cut stems together and fanning the flowers in the most appealing way possible.

The atmosphere was quiet. Peaceful.

Louis would have completely lost himself in his craft if it weren't for a rumbling approaching the walls of the shop. As the sound drew nearer the windows began to slightly rattle.

Louis grumbled under his breath as his concentration was broken. He darted his eyes over to the front window to get a glimpse of what was causing all the ruckus.

Stalling in front of the shop was a helmeted, bare armed, man, straddling the seat of a motorbike. Louis didn’t know shit about motorbikes, but if the obnoxious roar of the engine was anything to go by, he’d say the bike was rather old. Deteriorating maybe.

Louis rolled his eyes back into focus. He didn’t have time to watch someone fiddle with the innards of their moped. Who even rode motorbikes in Autumn? Wouldn’t it be too cold? Louis couldn't imagine riding at high speeds and having icy droplets of morning dew pelting against his skin. It just didn't sound appealing.

The deafening engine revved to life once more, completely cutting into Louis’ thoughts.

_Fuck_. He needed to get this arrangement done and stop pondering over unlikely scenarios. He went back to the task at hand, tying the mini bamboo together, and snipping the unattractive bits away. He smirked to himself when he heard one last loud crack of the engine before it went eerily silent.

He couldn't help but look up. The lad hopped off his bike, clearly annoyed with his giant cluster of scrap metal. Louis let his eyes linger a bit longer as the man paced around, back and forth. Christ, he was fit. Or at least, what the helmet wasn't covering was fit.

Tattoos. Long legs. Nice broad shoulders. Exactly Louis’ type, minus the loud hunk of machinery. He subconsciously flicked his fringe off his forehead and smoothed out the wrinkles of his clothing.

It had been a while. Been so long since he last had eyes for anybody, and the blush creeping up on his neck, as he watched the lads arms flex and strain as he toyed with his motorbike, was unfamiliar, yet pleasant.

Jesus, he needed to get laid.

Another window rattling roar erupted on the other side of the building, and Louis had finally heard enough. Of all the places he could work on his bike, this man chose to do it in front of a flower shop? Did he have no consideration for the delicate environment?

He gingerly set his unfinished arrangement to the side and stood from his comfortable position behind the counter. He wasn't used to shooing off bikers at an hour past dawn, but there was a first time for everything, he supposed.

He gathered up all the courage to politely ask the man to take his business elsewhere. As he pushed through the front door of the shop, an ear piercing rumble reverberated through the air, and Louis tensed irritably at the sound.

“You're killing my flowers, mate!” he squeaked with anger as the helmeted man revved the engine once more, “Can you at least wheel it down the road? I can feel me bloody lungs shriveling up!”

The man in front of him stepped away from his bike and made his way toward Louis. Fuck. It was as if time slowed down and the world around them watched as the scene unfolded. The man removed the helmet from around his head and Louis’ insides twisted violently.

Harry.

The same Harry that left him stranded outside of a nightclub all those months ago. Louis knew he'd never forget that face. It was so beautiful yet so fucking infuriating.

And Christ did their reunion have to be so bloody picturesque?

“M’sorry, love. Didn't plan on breaking down right here,” his deep voice sent chills down Louis’ spine and the pet name practically took him back to the night they shared. Well, _nearly_ shared, “Just need a bit longer to fix the clutch and I'll be on my way.” Louis avoided any and all eye contact as Harry continued his movements towards him, “I’ll buy back every flower I kill, yeah? Sound good?”

Louis shifted his gaze up for a second and all the hurt came flooding back. Those same eyes held promise not so long ago. Those same lips kissed and spoke sweet words into his skin. Yet here they were, strangers to each other once more, and Harry didn't seem to exude the slightest bit of familiarity.

Louis panicked.

He backed himself back into the shop, leaving Harry alone and unanswered. Various floral scents cleansed his lungs as he inhaled deep breaths, ridding the exhaust fumes from inside his chest. He shuffled his way over to the front counter and sat his bum on top of it.

Fuck.

He scrubbed his hands down his face and massaged away the beginnings of a headache. He couldn't believe he ran into Harry again. Couldn't believe he ran _from_ him.

The bells above the shop’s door jingled and Louis sighed exasperatedly at the thought of facing it all.

“Hey,” Harry’s gentle voice carried through the shop as Louis dug the palms of his hands into his eyes, “Everything alright? You looked a bit ill before you ran off. M’sorry if it was the fumes. I went ahead and pushed my bike around the corner.”

God. He didn't exactly make holding a grudge against him _easy_.

Louis removed his hands from his face completely and shivered at the sight before him.

Under all his wind blown glory, Harry actually looked concerned. Maybe even a bit guilty. His t-shirt fit tightly across his chest and his trousers clung sinfully to his thighs.

A small part of Louis wished Harry would step between his slightly spread legs, and take him right here, but an even bigger part of him was still sickened by the thought of what he did to him.

“I'm alright, mate,” his voice clipped harshly even to his own ears.

“Oh. Um, good, good,” the air was thick and awkward as Harry shifted his weight from one side to the other. Louis couldn't help but dart his eyes away from Harry’s stare and couldn't help but nervously pick at the skin of his thumbs, “I'm sorry if this sounds a bit weird, but you look so familiar.”

Fuck.

Louis shifted his gaze back to Harry’s and swallowed audibly. He couldn't form words. Could only offer a small, stubborn, shrug of his shoulders.

“Have we met before?” Harry inquired, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside of Louis.

“I don't believe we have.”

“Y’sure? I swear I've seen you around,” he paused as he mentally tried to recall where he knew him from, “Yeah, somewhere in Brixton—OH! Isn't your name—”

“No.” Louis cut him off before Harry had the chance to utter out a name that certainly wouldn't be his own. He wouldn't be able to take it. Could hardly even take what was happening in front of him. “I should really get back to work. Sorry about your bike, mate.”

He shifted himself off the counter and avoided Harry at all costs. He couldn't be on the receiving end of his sad eyes. Refused to fall into that trap.

He settled behind the counter and did everything he could to make himself look busy.

“I could buy something, you know, for all the trouble. I wasn't taking the piss.”

“That won't be necessary,” he looked up from the arrangement in front of him and softened his tone, “but you're more than welcome to look around.”

“Which ones did you make? I want to buy one made by you, for you.”

Louis’ cheeks were tinted pink and his insides tingled maddeningly.

_Don’t fall for it! Don’t fall for it!_

“Haven't even been here longer than an hour, mate. Haven't had the chance to make anything.”

“Alright,” he dragged out the word and paused to think, “Do you have any single flowers I can buy? Do you have a favourite?”

“Afraid not.” he answered not looking up from the flowers in his hand.

“Now you're just being difficult, love,” Harry said with a smirk, “That can’t be good for business.”

Louis’ tongue was itching to banter along with him. His quick wit was begging to be let free. But, instead, he swallowed it all down, and settled for a humorless shrug. He just wanted this to be over with.

Harry laughed to himself and shook his head at Louis’ stubbornness.

“Alright, I can take a hint,” he threw his hands up in surrender, “But while I'm here, I might as well place an order, yeah? Can I at least do that?”

Louis sighed but obliged his request anyway. He dug underneath the counter for a pen and an order form, and carefully slid it over to Harry.

The two of them sat in near silence. The only sound being the soft music over the shop's speakers and the pen in Harry's hand scrawling against the paper.

Louis allowed himself to peek at Harry while he was distracted. God, he wanted nothing more than to be able to kiss away the crease between his brows, maybe even tuck a spare carnation between his curls. Ugh.

“I placed it to be delivered next week. So please handle with care, yeah?” Harry slid over the paper and pen with a few tenners attached. He looked to Louis with a hint of mischief in his eyes.

Louis ignored it to the best of his ability, and shoved the papers aside to be dealt with at a later time, and by someone other than him, “Not a problem, sir. Thank you.”

“Thank you.” he turned on his heel and headed towards the door, “Have a good day, love.”

Louis painted a smile onto his face and left it there until Harry was completely out the door.

God. Finally.

He’d never have to face him again.

 

\--

 


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn't abnormal for Louis to wake up with a raging hard on these days.

Green eyes and soft lips lured him into the deepest pits of his lust filled dreams, touching and teasing, fulfilling his every fantasy, and ruthlessly vanishing right before his climax.

Louis was tired. So incredibly tired of Harry slinking his way into his brain. It had been a full week since he last saw those silky lips in person, yet his subconscious could not move on. He hated it.

This morning was no different.

Cotton sheets tangled between his legs as he thrust his hips into the mattress below him. His cock was begging for release, balls drawn up tight, and tingling sensations pooling in his belly, but he refused. He couldn't bear giving Harry that sort of satisfaction, even if he'd never find out.

It was a matter of principle.

His hands clenched tightly in the sheets and his hips thrust one last time before he stubbornly halted all movements. He cursed furiously under his breath and bit down hard against his lip. It was a harsh distraction but it eased his mind away from the temptation of a sweet release.

Before he could wallow in regret, a repetitive buzz annoyingly rang through his flat. Under any other circumstance, he'd ignore it, but seeing as the only visitor he ever had this early was Perrie, he knew he wouldn't get away with not answering.

Shakily, he made his way out of bed, and hastily assembled an outfit made up of clothing strewn across the room. Who knew if it was clean or not.

He tucked himself away to the best of his abilities and stumbled across the small expanse of his flat to the speaker, “Nobody's home!” his sleep coated voice projected heavily through his throat.

“I know you're in there!” Perrie’s all too energized voice bled through the speaker, “Let me up! You have some explaining to do!”

Huh?

With a quirk of his brow, and a confused tilt to his head, he buzzed her through, and mentally fret at what she could possibly be accusing him of.

Did he forget to close up the shop properly last night, leaving Perrie to clean up whatever he left behind?

No—not that he recalled.

Did they have a breakfast date planned?

Shit.

Did Louis accidentally stand up his only friend?

Christ, he might have. But, that probably wouldn't be enough of a reason for her to show up at his flat, at half 9 in the morning, right?

He rehearsed a quick apology in his head before her petite fist hit the door repetitively. Louis unlatched the lock, and before he knew it, he had a boisterous blonde shoving a flower arrangement into his chest.

“You didn't tell me you were bloody seeing somebody, Louis!” her Geordie accent thickened in accusation.

“Wha—”

“And for God’s sake you couldn't even put that away before you let me up—” she quickly cut herself off and lowered her voice to a whisper, “Shit, is he here? Oh god, I'm so sorry, I didn't know—”

“Perrie!” Louis cut her off and set the delicate arrangement down on the nearest table, “No one is here. Now, forgive me for not being able to keep up with you so early in the morning, but what are you on about, love?”

“First of all,” she grabbed a pillow off a nearby sofa and chucked it at Louis, “Cover your bits,” his cheeks heat up in embarrassment but he heeded her order without argument, “Second, someone ordered those flowers for you! I can't believe you'd keep this from me! Who is he?”

“Wait, so you’ve just abandoned the shop to come snoop?”

She crossed her arms over her chest and nodded her head stubbornly, “I at least locked up, I'm not completely daft.”

Louis loved Perrie to pieces. Couldn’t imagine life without his best mate. But she was a complete nutter. Who else would abandon their shift to delve into the juicy details of his life?

“Well I’m sorry to disappoint, Pez, but I’m not the only Louis in London. Did you even check the address before you assumed?”

“Of course I did you idiot! The address was addressed to the shop’s,” she leaned over and plucked the card from the middle of the flowers, and handed it to Louis, “‘Bloke even called this morning to make sure the arrangement got into the right _Louis’_ hands.”

Louis’ face morphed into bewilderment. Who could possibly be thinking of him enough to send him flowers, and from his own shop? He hasn't properly been involved with anyone since he moved to London.

Was it from someone back in Donny, then?

He gracelessly tore at the envelope’s edges, throwing the ripped shreds to the ground, and carefully reading over the printed words.

_Louis,_

_We have met before, and the displeasure in your eyes tells me you remember that night just as clearly as I do. I intend to apologize in person, but until then, I'll let the flowers speak for me._

_-Harry_

Louis shot a quick glance over to the arrangement.

Pink long stem roses climbed from the center of the vase, and were sporadically adorned by tiny blue flowers. It was pretty, but he’d never seen the blue ones in the shop before. They almost looked–wild.

“What does it say?” Perrie bounced in her spot and slipped the card from between his fingers.

Louis might've put up a fight if he wasn't so incredibly heated. How the fuck did he not notice this order, and how did Harry go on and pull this off?

Louis silently seethed. Let the flowers speak for him? Who did he think he was?

Perrie muffled a giggle into her hand as she finished off the note, “Who is this, Lou? And does he really speak like this?”

Louis pinched the petals of the blue flowers between his fingertips and let out a frustrated sigh, “D’you remember all those months ago when I was left stranded in Brixton?” her eyebrows raised in realization and her head nodded rapidly, “Yeah, this is from him.”

“Oh, God! Who does he think he is?” bless her, “He should be groveling at your feet! And why did he wait so bloody long to say something?”

“Pretty sure he never planned on seeing me again,” he shrugged and chucked his pillow back against the couch, “His motorbike broke down in front of the shop about a week ago, and when I went out to tell him to move–I don't know–I guess he recognized me, but I didn't really give him the time of day. Didn't feel like he deserved it.”

“Well, he bloody well doesn't,” Louis rolled his eyes and moved to flop against the back of his sofa petulantly. Perrie followed behind, grabbing the delicate arrangement, and examining it in her lap, “D’you know the meaning of these?”

Technically speaking, he _should_ know. Should be able to arrange flowers according to their meanings and create something totally symbolic. But he didn't. And he would admit to being a shit florist on that aspect alone.

“I haven't the slightest idea.” he shrugged and sighed out his frustrations.

“Well the lad’s either a good guesser or he speaks the language of the flowers,” she carefully pulled out one long stem pink rose and tapped it against the tip of Louis’ scrunched up nose, “Light pink roses can be associated with lots of things, but they're most commonly used to express grace and admiration, and in some cases, sympathy.”

Louis plucked the rose from Perrie’s hold and twirled it between his fingers.

_Admiration._

He repeated the word over and over again in his head, and as he traced the tips of his fingers against the blushy pink petals, he couldn't help but wonder if that word also came to Harry’s mind.

“What about the blue ones? Feels like I've never seen them in the shop before.”

“Yeah, these definitely had to be ordered in,” she plucked a few of the tiny flowers from their stems and sprinkled them in Louis’ fringe, “These really only grow in the spring and die shortly after. They’re commonly known as _forget-me-nots_ ,” her curved brow slightly raised and a mischievous smile took over her face, “Seems as if your boy knew what he was doing. And he did it all especially for you.”

“He’s not my boy,” the pink tinge of his cheeks failed to match the animosity in his voice, “Don't fall for all this sappy shite, Pez, you know better than this.”

“Oh c’mon, Louis! He put a lot of thought into the flowers he chose, and their meanings, and not to mention, he did check up on it to make sure it was given to you! He could have easily forgotten about the whole thing!”

“He left me high and dry in the bleeding cold!”

“And he’s trying to apologise for it, Lou! Obviously one flower arrangement isn't enough, but it's a start, yeah?”

“No.” he clipped and leaned over to shove the long stem rose back into its vase.

“Now you're just being prideful. Let yourself indulge in the act of receiving flowers for god's sake. It's cute!”

“Maybe I would if it was from someone who actually cared and didn't just order them under the crippling pressure of guilt.” he knew he was being difficult and a tad bit dramatic, but he had every right to still be upset.

Perrie rolled her eyes and softly shook her head, “Stubborn as a mule, I swear.”

“It's why you keep me around, love.”

Perrie carefully set the flower arrangement on the table and seemingly out of nowhere hurled a pillow at his face.

“You deserved that,” she stood from her seat on the couch and dusted herself off, “We’re still on for lunch later, yeah? S’not even noon yet and I'm already famished.”

Louis tossed his pillow to the ground and mentally checked the calendar in his head, “I've got a lecture at 11, but after that I'm free.”

“Sounds good. I'll see you, then.”

“See you, P.”

He listened closely as the soles of her trainers scuffed their way to the front door.

“Tell me if you run into Harry again, yeah? And don't be so rude, I've taught you better than that.”

“Not likely, mum.”

He rolled his eyes and softly chuckled as the front door shut behind her. Slowly, he sat up from his position on the sofa, and picked the tiny blue flowers from his hair.

_I intend to apologise in person._

Louis’ heart fluttered at the thought of ever seeing him again and he cursed himself for it.

Harry had an enigmatic way about him and Louis had no intentions on figuring him out. He wouldn't fret over someone who likely wouldn't follow up with his promises.

He didn't before, why would he now?

_Let yourself indulge_.

He hovered over the arrangement and inhaled the gentle scent of fresh roses. God, he would never get tired of that smell.

Louis reasoned with himself as he carried the flowers into his room, and placed them right on top of his beside table. He didn't have to forgive Harry, but he could appreciate the small act of kindness.

Flowers always did seem to brighten up a room, anyway.

  
\--


	4. Chapter 4

Time trudged its way through the ceaseless final hours of his shift. Slowly dragging itself through the clientless atmosphere and constricting Louis to the tedious demands of revising.

The stagnant air was sweet with delicate scents of chrysanthemums and freshly watered roses. Sleepy guitar rhythmically strummed over the shop’s speakers as Louis tapped diligently at his keyboard.

 _Hours_ of revising could be completed here. Demand for arrangements dwindled around noon and Louis just happened to work the remaining 7 hours. There were little to no interruptions and the nearly silent ambiance was made perfect for reading.

Louis immersed himself in his coursework hours ago, and inevitably lost all track of time.

A persistent buzz in his pocket drew him out of his studies. He checked the time in the dim corner of his laptop.

6:28 p.m. Shit.

He already knew who was ringing him, and he already knew what she wanted.

Friday evenings were reserved for quality time with Perrie. And quality time usually meant takeaway, rubbish telly, and a cheap bottle of wine. But Louis knew he wasn’t lucky enough for that to last. Perrie had been dropping hints all week that she’s in desperate need for a night of liquor and grinding up on strangers.

Louis didn't _actually_ mind the notion, he just wanted to put it off for _one_ more weekend. Or two. Three if he was feeling particularly antisocial.

The buzzing in his pocket paused for all but a minute before it buzzed to life again. Louis sighed, knowing he couldn't avoid this, and fished his mobile out of his trousers.

“Hello, Perrie.” he greeted softly.

“Oh, look who decided to answer,” she sweetly replied, voice dripping in sarcasm, “It's about bloody time.”

“I’m doing well, love, thanks for asking.”

He couldn't see her, but he could easily sense the painless roll of her eyes, “Close up early, we’re going out tonight, and there is no way you're getting out of this one.”

“It’s hardly half six, what do you mean close up early?” he questioned mildly appalled by the suggestion, “And your tone isn't exactly convincing y’know. A _please_ wouldn't hurt.”

Perrie huffed a drawn out frustrated sigh and Louis softly giggled over the line, “Yes, Louis, will you _please_ get off your arse and join me for a night out? We both know you need a minimum of four hours to check yourself out in the mirror before you go anywhere,” Louis’ jaw dropped at the mostly true accusation, “I don't ask for much, Lou, please? _Please, please, please, plea_ —”

“Alright, alright,” he gently interrupted her purposely obnoxious begging, “I’ll go, yeah? But I can't promise I'll be much fun. I'm a bit drained from revising.”

“Ahh, we’ve got to loosen you up a bit, then. I'll be at yours in a few with a bottle of rum.”

“Oi, not yet! I’ve still got to close up and—”

“Please don't keep me waiting,” she cut in, “See you in a bit!”

As the line went dead, he shook his head, and shoved his mobile back into his pocket. How on earth did she get Louis to agree? And so easily.

He glanced at the till and decided to get a start on closing up. He didn't really have say in it after all.

Who knew, maybe he'd actually have a grand and memorable night out. Maybe he’d even find himself a good shag.

 

\--

 

Cherry spiced rum burned its way down Louis’ throat as discomfort briefly etched its way into his features. His mouth puckered as he swiped away the remaining liquid from his lips and further tightened his grip on Perrie’s flask. It was pink and rhinestone encrusted. He’d never seen something quite so fitting for his best friend. It was cute and totally lacked subtlety, just like her.

He was definitely going to steal it.

Louis giggled under his breath as the two of them leaned against the polished brick of the building. It must have been a packed house. Louis vaguely remembers Perrie mentioning this place was new. Or maybe he just made that up.

His laughter caught up with him once again as he struggled to keep it contained. Rum always did make him quite giggly. Perhaps that's why Perrie brought it out.

“Good to see you having a laugh,” Perrie playfully shoved him and let a mischievous smile dance upon her face, “What's so funny?”

“I don't know to be honest. Just my inner monologue.” he replied around another laugh, causing Perrie to let out a few herself.

“You're well on your way to pissed, Lou, it's been far too long.”

And it has. He couldn't even remember the last time he stumbled home or woke up with a bleeding headache.

As Louis got lost in thought, he felt Perrie tug his wrist forward, and move them closer to the entrance. Stealthily, he slid the pink flask into the front pocket of his ripped up jeans. It stuck out like a sore thumb, but if he adjusted his jumper just right, it was hardly noticeable. Or at least, it was in his buzzed brain.

Before he knew it, the two of them were paying their entry, shucking off their coats, and navigating their way to the spirits.

Neon reds lights lit the path as the crowd on the dance floor became thicker, and the queue at the bar slightly dwindled.

“M’gonna run to the loo, would you be so kind as to get the first round?” Perrie pouted as they reached the bar top.

Louis raised a suspicious eyebrow, “That’s a pretty conveniently timed trip to the loo, eh? What's your game here, Edwards?”

“To get pissed at your expense,” she pinched at his cheeks before scurrying off, “Thanks, love!”

Christ. The things that girl got away with. No matter. Louis was feeling generous anyway.

He quickly got the attention of the barmaid and politely requested the two strongest drinks she could shake up. He was terrible at this whole bar thing. Could never memorize the names of what he liked.

As the drinks were concocted, he let his eyes roam over the sea of people. Bodies swayed to the rhythm of the music. Unapproachable lads sipped from their bitter ales on the outskirts of the dance floor. Couples cuddled up on the leather seats of the lounge areas. It was nice. Much more mellow than he anticipated.

Louis let his stance relax against the sleek bar top as two pink drinks were passed his way. Shit. Berries and tiny umbrellas. These definitely wouldn't be cheap. He pulled a few tenners from his wallet, and prayed it covered the two of them, with enough for a tip to be left over.

He dipped down to have and sip and nearly choked when Perrie knocked her hips against his.

“Ahhh! Thanks, Lou,” she snatched her drink from the counter and sipped away as Louis nearly coughed up a lung, “Mmm, I think you’ve got someone's attention already.” her eyebrows bounced and her cheeks dimpled in delight.

Louis cleared his throat thoroughly before his reply, “What are you on about?”

“On my way back I saw two lads practically undressing you with their eyes,” she slightly peeked over her shoulder and quickly turned back forward, “Shit, one of them caught me, but they're still looking. They're both pretty fit too.”

That piqued Louis’ interest.

Two fit men looking his way? He was going to have to see for himself. Before he went to turn his head, he swallowed down a mouthful of his drink, and elongated the lines of his body. Showing off his curves and accentuating the hollows of his cheeks.

“You're so bloody desperate for it, it’s amusing.” Perrie shook with laughter.

“It’s been ages, Pez! Give me a break,” he fixed his fringe against his forehead and smoothed out the wrinkles of his jumper, “How do I look?”

“Amazing. Never better. Anyone in here would be so lucky to take you home.”

Louis rolled his eyes at her obvious sarcasm but knew deep down she wouldn't let him out of his flat without looking his best.

One last deep breath and he turned his head over his right shoulder. Immediately, he was met with an intense stare behind the darkest shade of green eyes.

Fuck.

Louis snapped his head back to its original position, “Perrie,” he nearly choked on baited breath, “That—that’s Harry. That’s _the_ Harry. Flower delivery, Harry.”

“Harry?” she boldly turned to get a better look at him and met Louis with a look of anger, “The one that left you? That’s him? With the curly hair?”

Louis glanced over his shoulder once more.

Yeah. That was definitely him. Tousled curls hung off the silk shoulders of his blouse and his ring clad fingers gleamed against the frosted glass in his hand. He was stunning as ever.

Louis hated it.

And more than anything, he hated the wink that Harry shot his way. Hated that it made him half hard in his trousers.

“Who's the lad next to him?” Perrie’s voice cut through his thoughts.

Louis hadn't even noticed anyone next to him. Too caught up in the sight of Harry. Whoever it was though, was equally as stunning. Scruffy cheeks, honey eyes, and tattoos that covered his sun kissed skin. He wasn't hard to look at, but Louis couldn't draw his gaze away from Harry.

“Not sure.” he shrugged and turned his back on the two of them.

“Oh don't you start brooding about now.” Perrie insisted.

“M’not brooding,” he completely bypassed his straw and chugged down the remainder of his too pink, and too expensive drink. It fucking burned, but he made it a point not to wince, “I’m plotting.”

With a wipe to his lips and a flick of his fringe, he was off, and nothing would get in the way of his intentions.

He purposely swayed his hips with each step he took and inadvertently tugged the sleeve of his jumper, exposing the smooth skin of his shoulder. He hoped he looked as tempting as he felt, and when he looked up from under his lashes, and met Harry’s allure induced stare, he knew he had him right where he wanted.

As he approached closer, he let a coy smile dance upon his face, and nearly felt sorry for Harry when the smile on his lips matched his own. He held their gaze right up until he was toe to toe with the two of them. Harry looked as if he was about to speak, but was callously sidestepped, as Louis grabbed the other lad by his collar, and led him to the dance floor.

Celebratory hoots came from behind them, and there was no mistaking Perrie’s enthusiasm for revenge. Louis nearly let a shit eating grin take over his face, but as he peeked over his shoulder to gage Harry’s reaction, he was sorely let down.

Harry was fine. Not a trace of hurt lingered in his eyes as he sipped from his cocktail, and watched the two of them with a curious brow.

Fuck. And that god forsaken wink.

Totally and completely unfazed, it was as if he could see right through him. But Louis wasn't quite finished. He drew him and the mystery lad far enough into the crowd to give the illusion of privacy, but also visible enough to be in Harry’s line of vision.

Louis lined their bodies up back to front and wrapped the lads tattoo covered hands around the dip of his waist. Harry remained unruffled. Already off to charm his way into his next free drink.

Louis rolled his eyes frustratedly. Whatever. He was bound to look over at some point.

“What’s your name, love?” Louis rocked his hips and gently placed his head into the crook of his neck.

“Zayn.” he gruffly spoke into the shell of Louis’ ear. Under any other circumstance, it would've sent shivers straight to Louis’ cock, but as of now, he just couldn't take his eyes off of Harry. Couldn't help but wish he'd fucking glance over, even for just a second.

“Nice to meet you,” disinterest coated his words and his distracted body language matched, “M’Louis.”

“I know who you are, babe.”

Louis’ body jerked forward in bewilderment, “What?”

“Relax, relax. Sorry, that was a bit creepy,” he guided Louis in by the waist until they were face to face, “I promise I haven't been stalking you, s’just Harry’s my best mate, and he hasn't shut up about you for months.”

Embers of excitement ignited within his chest but were quickly extinguished by waves of rage, “What do you mean for _months_?”

Zayn didn't answer immediately but instead flickered his eyes somewhere behind Louis.

“Wrap your arms around my neck,” Louis hesitated at his instruction, “He’s looking.”

A glint of mischief shimmered in his honey brown eyes as it dawned on Louis that Zayn knew what he was up to. Louis smirked and wrapped his arms up around his neck and drew their bodies in closer. Zayn’s palms were placed dangerously low at the bottom of his spine and their hips moved to the beat.

Louis could feel it working. Felt a heated stare burning into the flesh of his arse.

“He went to the same club for weeks straight hoping to find you again,” Zayn carried on with his explanation in the crook of Louis’ neck, “Then he remembered you said you weren't from here, and he sort of gave up from there. Guess you got caught up in your little white lie, huh?”

Louis buried his flaming face into the rough material of Zayn’s jumper, “I’m not actually from here, though. Moved here from Doncaster two years ago or summat.”

“Suppose I'll let you slide on technicality,” he let his gaze wander over Louis’ shoulder for a second, then pulled him in closer by the waist, “He talked about you for ages. From the colour of your eyes, to the _unforgettable_ sound of your laugh. How he wished he could see you one last time,” he let his eyes flicker over toward the bar once more and tilted Louis’ face up by the chin, “How you have the face of an angel and a body dipped in sin.”

Louis darted his face to the side hoping Zayn wouldn't catch on to the flush creeping up his neck, “God, is he always so unbearably pretentious?”

“ _Poetic_ , he likes to call it.”

Ugh. Louis rolled his eyes as he was reminded of why Harry left such a bad taste in his mouth. His words were so fucking sweet but his actions told another story.

But he’d be lying if he said his body didn't ache for just another taste. Specifically in the region of his half hard cock. Fuck. He needed to relax. Maybe splash a bit of cool water to his face.

“I’m gonna run to the toilets.”

His body slipped away from Zayn’s and weaved in and out of the masses. The air was uncomfortably thick as he kept his head pointed to the ceiling. Faintly, he heard the repetitive call of his name, but ignored it in favor of taming his situation.

Knocking before he entered was the furthest thing from his mind as he swung the door open, and slammed it shut behind him. He didn't even get a minute to breathe before—

“Fancy seeing you here,” _shit._ “Although, a knock would have been appreciated.”

Louis’ lip snarled as he followed the movement of Harry washing his hands and throwing his rubbish in the bin. God, he forgot how infuriatingly attractive he was up this close.

“Is that a sparkly pink flask in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

Fuck. Louis couldn't stand how easily flustered he was around this mere stranger. Couldn't stand that the pink tint of his cheeks drew a brilliant smile across Harry’s face.

“Why would I ever be happy to see you?” he spit petulantly. It was unnerving how tongue tied and inarticulate he became around him.

“I’d believe this little act if you weren't keeping tabs on me out there, rather than enjoying your time with my best mate.” he stepped closer, forcing Louis up against the door, “But seeing as you were, surely you must be a little pleased that you finally have my attention.”

Louis’ body shook with irritation and a hint of something he couldn't quite place, “About as pleased as you are having me in a room to yourself. As if I couldn't feel your stare burning into my back.”

“So we’re both pretty pleased with each other's presence, then?” he was so smug, but Louis couldn't disagree, and the stubborn shake of his head did nothing to convince either of them.

Harry further crowded Louis’ space. Slipping a thigh between his own and resting his weight against his forearm on the wall. A smirk spread over his face as Louis reached behind himself and twisted the lock on the door.

“Are you always so insufferable?” he hitched his leg up over Harry’s hip and pressed their bodies up against each other.

A massive hand twirled itself into the locks of Louis’ hair and pulled, “Anymore insults you need to get out of your system?”

“Your outfit is hideous.”

A growl escaped from within Harry as their desperate lips crashed against each other. Eager hands rubbed and grabbed along the curves of Louis’ body. Wet tongues and sharp teeth messily slid and nipped as breathy whimpers tumbled from Louis’ mouth.

“Fuck,” Harry pulled off for a breath and picked Louis up off the ground, pinning him between his cock and the door, “I've missed you.”

“You don't even fucking know me.” he roughly thread his fingers between tangled curls and attempted to dive back in.

Harry dodged Louis’ rough lips and slowly went in for a gentle approach. Lips pressed together firmly in pleasure, languidly moving against each other, and only slipping open for just a moment.

Harry's hands slid into the pockets of Louis’ trousers and squeezed as he carefully walked them away from the door. Louis pulled off to breathe and let Harry have his way with the skin of his neck.

The view to his right was maddening.

Harry’s arms bulged in the reflection of the dirty mirror and the passion exuding from his hungry lips was something Louis was going to commit to memory.

“I _want_ to know you,” Harry breathlessly uttered against the bruising skin of Louis’ neck, “Want to know what turns you on,” a gentle squeeze to his bum and a soft press of the lips had Louis boneless, “want to know what makes you laugh, what makes you cry, what gets you up in the morning,” each pause was punctuated by a kiss, “I want _you_.”

“Yeah?” Louis airily whimpered out and tugged Harry back by the hair.

“God, yes.” Harry murmured gently into his lips.

Louis couldn’t help but giggle deviously, “Should've thought of that before you left me stranded in Brixton.”

Harry pulled back. Lips slightly parted and eyes blown wide. Absolutely gobsmacked. Good.

Louis snuck one last peck to Harry’s stunned lips and untangled himself from around Harry’s body. It never felt so good leaving another lad with a hard cock and no release.

As he made his satisfied way toward the exit, he felt a gentle tug at his hip, “Wait—I’m—give me a chance to properly apologise. Have dinner with me—let me take you out and explain myself—anything. Please.”

“S’going to take a bit more than a heated snog in the toilets to get me to agree to that.” he snipped.

“What will it take?” he practically begged as he clung to the fabric of Louis’ jumper.

“Not sure,” Louis offered a helpless shrug, before pulling the door open, “But you’ll figure it out, yeah?”

Harry’s grip loosened and Louis took it as his chance to slip out with a smirk firmly plastered on his face.

Fuck. _Finally_. Having the upper hand was a feeling Louis could get used to.

 

  
\--

 


	5. Chapter 5

Sweat thinly coated the expanse of Louis’ bruised and sleep heavy body. Layers of sheets and duvets piled on top of his sticky skin and the sleep in his bones kept him motionless to the weight of it all. Ah. He was naked too.

All sure signs of a good night.

He winced as he caught a glance of the time. 10:24 am. Too early to get out of bed but too late to comfortably fall back asleep. It was muggy outside his window. Typical for a Saturday morning in New Cross. For once, he was thankful the sun didn't shine here.

Gradually, he sat up in bed, letting the covers pool around his hips, and gently wiped the sweat from his forehead. _Fuck_. His temples throbbed and he was in desperate need of hydration.

“Lou?” Perrie softly called from the other side of his door. He was grateful to hear her voice, but how they fuck did they both get back here in one piece?

“In here,” he groaned out, “Dying.”

Perrie tiptoed through the room. Paracetamol and a tall glass of water in hand. What an absolute angel.

“I see you had a good night.” she handed over the supplies with a raised brow and her eyes pointed towards the love bites on his neck.

Louis rolled his eyes into the back of his throbbing head as he swallowed down the water and painkillers, “I see you had no problem making yourself at home.”

Right down to the socks on her feet, she dressed herself in Louis’ coziest articles of clothing.

“Well I wasn't going to sleep in my club attire,” she defended, “Besides, you owe me for looking after you all night.”

Louis cringed and embarrassment coloured his face, “Oh, God. How bad was I?”

“Well,” she made herself comfortable on the edge of the bed as Louis tightened the duvet around his waist, “It’s quite funny actually, you sort of made a game out of how many lap dances you could give, while getting free drinks out of it. Safe to say you lost count and I had to bloody carry you out of there - Oh! You also stripped naked as soon as you walked through your front door. So that was an experience.”

Shit. Worse than he thought. And although he had no recollection, he was glad he got it out of his system.

“Sounds dreadful for you. M’sorry.” he weakly shrugged and laughed at the mere thought of it all.

“Nah it's alright, we had a good time. D’you remember who gave you these, though?” she harshly pressed a thumb into the tender bruise on his collarbone.

“Oi! Stop it!” he shooed her off petulantly, “And no I don't. Was pretty much gone for the night.”

“So you don't remember snogging your sworn enemy in the toilets either, do you?”

“Wait—what?”

Oh no.

It all came rushing back to him. Harry, his failed attempt at making him jealous, the heated snog in the toilets. Jesus. He was really feeling his hangover now.

“Ahh, now you remember,” she poked and prodded at his bare tummy, “You like him more than you lead on. You want to be boyfriends. You lov—”

“Stop! I’m naked under here!” he giggled and shoved himself further under the covers, “And what are we, five? He’s fit, and a good snog, but I can't bloody stand him, you know this.”

“You're such a shit liar.” she chided.

He was, and he knew he was, but he’d never admit to it out loud.

“If I was the slightest bit interested, I would've woken up to him instead of you,” he ruffled a hand through her hair, “Good thing I’m not, though. Who wouldn't want to wake up to this face?”

“Shut up, you sarcastic knob,” she hopped off the bed and headed towards the door, “Get dressed, I’m taking us for brunch.”

Louis groaned out his excitement as the door quietly closed behind her.

Lazily, he tossed the duvet off himself, and stumbled over to his full length mirror. The marks on his neck sent a shiver down his spine as he further examined them. It was kind of hot. Harry was so bloody possessive, and Louis wasn't even his.

He let his mind drift to what it would be like if he was.

Love bites would cover his private areas. Thumb and handprints left behind on his hips and arse, all hidden away for no one else's eyes to see. But Louis’ would know. Would feel the sting behind them every time he so much as though about Harry.

Bloody hell. He was not about to get hard over hypotheticals. Especially with someone he despises.

He locked the thought of Harry away in the back of his brain, as he focused on dressing himself. He needed this dry spell to end soon. He wasn't exactly looking forward to getting off with Harry’s name on his lips.

 

\--

 


	6. Chapter 6

Maybe it was the sweet scent of gardenias that lured him into a world of his own. Inattentive to the sounds and movement around him, and drunk on a fragrance so irresistible, he couldn't help but tuck a spare one behind his ear, in place of his usual cigarette. It couldn't hurt, inhaling something a bit more gentle on his blackened lungs.

Or maybe, it was the uninterrupted task of stringing together a dozen of them for a wedding bouquet. One placed for tomorrow morning. Eloping, apparently.

Whatever is was, it was distracting enough to have missed the windows rattling, the bells above the door chiming, and most importantly, miss the absolute vision standing in front of him.

“You should wear flowers in your hair more often,” Louis startled in his seat as the deep voice bounced off the walls, “Really brings out your eyes.”

Harry.

Fucking. Harry.

In all his ripped jean, leather jacket glory. God. How did he always manage to find Louis at the most inconvenient times?

“You should fuck off,” he snarled, successfully masking the tremble in his voice, “My flowers are beginning to wilt in your presence.”

A cheeky laugh fell from Harry’s lips as he leaned against the counter and spoke directly to Louis, “You really know how to make a paying customer feel welcome, don't you, love? Are you always so charming?”

“Only to the cute ones,” he grinned as he went back to work, “Good thing you're not.”

“Oh, he has a sharp tongue,” he bit down on a smile and leaned in closer, “Hard to believe I missed that each time it's been down my throat.”

Christ.

Louis’ cheeks were painted crimson and his insides flared with arousal. Harry always made his way under his skin, so easily. Louis would be a bit more cross if it wasn't so bloody erotic.

“Why are you here?” Louis hissed.

“I'm so glad you asked,” he titled Louis’ pouty face up by the chin. It was so incredibly electrifying to stare into his eyes, “Have dinner with me.”

Louis recoiled at the suggestion, “Are you kidding me?” Harry stared back in mild confusion, “You waltz in here, toss around a few insults, and demand the world of me?”

Always one for the dramatics.

“It's just dinner, mate.” Harry chuckled under his breath, “And I'm certain I only tossed compliments your way. As only a suitor should.”

Louis nearly gagged at that last bit. This wouldn't be the first time he’s questioned, to himself, if Harry was really like this, or not.

“Well, no thanks. The week old take away at my flat sounds far more appetising.”

“Alright, well,” Harry pondered for a second. Fiddling with the rings on his fingers and pressing his lips into a thin line, “When do you get off? I can give you a lift.”

“It's walking distance from here. I'll be alright.”

Louis was unintentionally challenging him. His short and dismissive answers seemed to be chipping away at Harry’s, ever so confident, demeanor.

“Give me something to work with, Lou,” the use of his nickname caught him off guard. Perrie was the only other human who actually addressed him by it, “I'm just asking for a little bit of your time.”

“Yeah? And what makes you think you're entitled to even a _little_ bit of my time?” he felt a chill zing up and down his spine. It felt nice having a backbone.

Harry visibly faltered. A quick downward tilt of the lips was more than enough to let Louis know that his words stung in all the right places.

Louis waited for a reply. Half expected something pretentious. But Harry was stuck. No words fell from his lips and he had seemingly resigned to letting his eyes linger on Louis’.

Strange lad.

“Right, well, I have work to do, so unless you're going to buy something, I’d like to get back to it. Uninterrupted.”

The first part was meant as a joke. He didn't really expect Harry to buy anything. It was just Louis’ way of softening the ‘ _get the fuck out_ ’ blow.

“Where's your order forms, then?”

“I don't want your flowers.” Louis chided before directing all of his attention to the arrangement in front of him.

Harry laughed under his breath as he stood to his full height, “Who said anything about them being for you, love?” Louis quickly shot a glare his way, “That's a bit presumptuous of you, don't you think?”

Louis’ blood boiled.

He hastily pulled a form from under the counter and slid it towards him. Harry’s smirk danced upon his lips once more and Louis couldn't take it. Couldn't stand the frustratingly endearing way his cheeks dimpled.

Louis removed himself from behind the counter, opting to water the already-watered flowers, again. Anything to separate himself from Harry.

As he moved from one arrangement to the next, he discreetly adjusted himself from under his gardening apron. Harry had an unexplainable ability to make his cock stir. From his self assuredness, to his way with words, and just how infuriatingly attracted Louis was to him, he was a fucking recipe for arousal.

Not to mention, Louis’ had blue balls since the day he met him.

“I could help with that you know.” Harry’s voice came from directly behind him.

Louis rolled his eyes at the warmth in Harry’s voice. He wasn't sure what he was offering to help with. Watering the plants or getting him off. Either way, Louis didn't need it.

He set down his watering can and turned in his spot to address him, “M’sure you could. Lucky for me, I can handle it myself.”

“Mmm, it's no fun by yourself though, is it?” Definitely about getting him off then.

“For you, maybe. I do just fine on my own.”

Harry snickered lowly as he backed Louis up against a wall. His breath hitched as Harry surrounded him from every angle. Boxing him in with his arms and ghosting his breath over the shell of his ear. His entire body slackened with just a drag of Harry’s thumb against his jaw.

Fuck. How did they always seem to end up in this position?

Anyone could walk by the shop's window and see what they were doing. Could easily see Harry’s confident body language and just how willingly Louis submits to it.

His breathing became quietly erratic as Harry caged him in. Chest puffing and cheeks tinting, Louis was quickly losing the upper hand. As if he ever had it in the first place.

Harry smiled down at him as he tucked his order form into the front pocket of Louis’ apron. His hands were so close to where Louis needed them, yet so far. Too far.

“Lust looks good on you,” Harry ran his long fingers through the silky locks of Louis’ hair, careful not to remove the Gardenia tucked behind his ear, “Your cheeks turn the prettiest shade of pink and your eyelashes flutter at the lightest touch. It's such a lovely sight, it's no wonder you do just fine on your own.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” he contradicts himself by pulling Harry in from the lapels of his leather jacket.

“Yeah?” his voice rumbled out of his chest, causing Louis’ dick to twitch at the sound, “Seems to be getting me somewhere.”

A cheeky grin spread across his face and Louis couldn't help but want it gone. So he kissed him.

Gentle. Lips on lips for a moment as their bodies drew closer. Nothing like their fervorous encounters before, but languid, and deep. The type of kiss Louis didn't know he’d been craving.

“Hate kissing you.” Louis snarled before taking the skin of Harry’s bottom lip between his teeth.

Harry moaned at the feeling. Slowly slipped his hands under the hem of Louis’ shirt, gliding his palms up against his ribs, and torturously sliding them back down. Louis hissed as Harry gripped the softest parts of his hips and squeezed.

“You hate that you can’t _stop_ kissing me.”

Their lips collided once more. Mouths opening on instinct and tongues sliding rhythmically. Nothing but the sound of desperation and wet lips filling the room.

Louis pulled away breathlessly, “I can stop whenever I please.” he shrugged nonchalantly, as if he wasn't completely at Harry’s mercy.

Harry’s piercing gaze met Louis’ as he pulled him in by the waist, “So stop, then.”

Louis slightly shook his head whilst biting down a smile. He pushed up on his toes and kissed the smirk right off of Harry’s lips.

“God,” Harry growled as he grabbed a hold of Louis’ wrists and pinned them up above his head, “You're so bloody stubborn,” he leaned in for a kiss, but was only met with the scruff of Louis’ cheek. it didn't stop him though, “I can't get enough. You drive me mad.”

Louis dissolved into laughter as Harry kissed a trail down to the columns of his throat, “And you bore me with your lines.” he squeezed his way out of Harry’s hold, smoothed out his clothing, and began to walk away towards the back, “Try harder next time.”

His cock was screaming for release. Practically begging Louis to let Harry quickly get him off. But he refused.

Harry stood there, motionless. Half stunned by the rapid change in Louis’ mood, and half afraid he’d come in his pants if his jeans rubbed him the right way. He was clearly unnerved.

“What makes you think next time is promised?” he shouted in his spot as Louis walked further away.

Louis intentionally swayed his hips as he reached the door to the back room. Slowly, he opened it, before throwing a glance over his shoulder, “What makes you think I care?”

The last thing he heard before he shut the door behind him, was the sound of Harry’s laugh. Irritation clearly evident. Heavy breathing and the repetitive click of Harry’s boots paced around the shop. More than likely trying to walk off the _massive_ hard on he acquired whilst being here.

The bells of the shop's front door followed shortly after, and the angry rumble of a motorbike let Louis know that he was in the clear.

It was oddly satisfying. Slightly wicked. But overall, exactly what Harry deserved.

 

\--

 


	7. Chapter 7

It wasn’t unsettling when Harry didn't immediately try to bother Louis for his time. It wasn’t out of the norm for Louis to keep such a close eye on every tall and slender lad that passed by the shop. And, surely, it wasn’t disheartening when the sound of a motorbike rumbled by without stopping.

That's what Louis kept telling himself anyway.

It's been three days since their mid-Monday rendezvous, and Louis’ skin most definitely wasn't itching for Harry’s touch. He was certain Harry would find his way back here, just wasn't exactly sure when.

He was partly convinced Harry was purposely keeping him on his toes. Not doubting that it was all a ploy to get Louis to think about him at all hours of the day and night, when he really shouldn't be. But then he realized, Harry was crafty, but not that crafty.

The all too familiar chime of bells that signalled the door opening jingled Louis out of his thoughts. His heart raced as he lifted his head to get a glance of who it was.

“Louis, my boy,” he slightly deflated as Perrie exuberantly pranced through the aisles of flowers. It's not that he _wasn't_ happy to see her. He was just expecting someone else, “Did the light in your eyes actually just die when I walked in? Is my presence really so abysmal?”

“Perrie—what? No. And you claim I'm the dramatic one?”

“Oh hush,” she prodded at his side as she tied her gardening apron around her waist, “Feels like I haven't seen you in ages. Uni has officially taken over my life,” Louis stood from his seat to offer it up and rid himself of his own apron, “What have I missed?”

Well.

He couldn't exactly go into detail about Harry crashing his shift, pinning him up against a wall, and disappearing for three days, causing Louis to fret over his reappearance. To Perrie’s knowledge, the two of them were sworn enemies, and, sure, it was true, but they had an understanding of some sort. An understanding where Louis could cast aspersions upon Harry, and Harry could shut him up with with a simple caress of the cheek. It was complicated, even to Louis. He couldn't just expect Perrie to understand.

“Um, nothing really.” he shrugged a shoulder trying to convey nonchalance.

She eyed him carefully. Scanning over his features and evaluating his every move. Louis smiled as he was looked over and silently cursed himself when it slightly faltered.

“You're lying.” she confidently accused.

“Lying? What would I lie about? I wouldn't lie to you.” He raised his hands in innocence.

She stared back blankly, completely unconvinced, “I don't know, but I can tell you're hiding something.”

Louis sighed and ran a lazy hand through his fringe, “I'm just tired. Couldn't really sleep last night,” definitely not because his mind was running rampant with visions of long curls and strong arms, “I also have a lecture in an hour and the thought of it isn't exactly de-stressing.”

“Ugh, no thanks, I just escaped from all of that. Don't even want to think about all the coursework I have piled up.” subject successfully changed.

“Sorry, Pez.” he wrapped her in a headlock before grabbing under the counter for his book bag, “Let's go out this weekend, yeah? Somewhere with house music and fit boys.”

“Oh, yes, please! You read my mind!” she exclaimed and threw her head back in relief.

Louis laughed under his breath as he backed himself towards the exit, “We’ll meet at mine, then. I’ll see you, P.”

He was nearly halfway out the door—

“Oi! Louis, wait!” she frantically waved him back inside and grinned with mischief, “Speaking of, _fit boys_ ,” she paused for nothing other than dramatic effect, “ _Yours_ called the other day to check up on _his_ arrangement ordered specially for you.”

“Mine?” he quirked a brow.

“Yeah, _your_ boy, Harry Styles.” she dragged the sound of his name off the tip of her tongue as if the name itself left behind a sour taste.

Fuck.

_Styles_. Quite the last name. It was the first Louis had learned of it. It sounded so nice. Fit him perfectly. _Styles. Harry Styles_. Really just rolled off the tongue.

“Louis!” Perrie shouted him out of his thoughts with an eyebrow lifted in suspicion, “I thought you hated him?”

“He’s not my boy,” his neck heat up and Perrie shook her head smugly from behind the counter, “And I do, so you're more than welcome to cancel the order.”

“I knew you were hiding something, Louis! Nothing gets past me.”

Well, she wasn't wrong. Louis needed to get the hell out of there before she started asking questions.

“Of course not,” he winked and carried on his way out the door, “I'm leaving now! See you, tomorrow!”

As he turned on his heel, and shoved his way out the door, he heard the shouts of Perrie threatening to pry the details from him later. He knew it was more of a promise, and knew he wouldn't be able to avoid it forever, but if he could steer clear of the topic until she was partially inebriated, maybe he wouldn't have to admit, out loud, that he didn’t actually _mind_ having Harry around.

Perrie wouldn't want to hear that, and quite frankly, neither would Louis.

 

\--

 


	8. Chapter 8

Frigid rain drops splashed onto Louis’ heated skin at a stagnant pace. It was almost as if the weather couldn't decide between clearing up for the evening or pouring down until dawn. A little mugginess didn't seem to stop the crowds, though. Perrie clung to Louis’ side as they maneuvered their way through the cluttered streets. Rubbish, stubbed out cigarettes, and the ever present aroma of liquor, wafted in the air.

Louis wasn't particularly sure where they were. Perrie sat them on the tube and he blindly trusted that she knew where she was going. He was tipsy enough not to question it.

This scene was oddly familiar, however. Felt like he’s seen these faces before. Felt the same for the weathered and student-lived-in buildings. Though, he didn't worry about it for too long. A pink flask was pressed to his lips and an energetic Perrie was worming their way to the front of a queue.

“I had a couple friends from uni put our names on a list,” Perrie explained through shortness of breath and the clacking of her heels, “It's not like VIP or anything, we just get to walk in free of charge. Oh! And–I hope you don't mind–but, I invited this lad along, tonight. He’s in Media and Communication studies, kind eyes, very handsome, and so incredibly sweet, and he just so happens to be interested in meeting you. His name is Liam, and he's part of my seminar group, so be nice.”

Louis scoffed as he swallowed down his last swig, “I’m as sweet as they come,” he defended as Perrie continued to tug them along, “And thanks for trying to set me up, but I'm not that desperate, yet.”

“Yeah, _yet_ ,” she shook her head and slowed their movements the closer they got to the entrance, “what kind of friend would I be if I sat around and watched you get to that point?”

Louis pondered it for a second, and no matter how much, or how little, alcohol he consumed, he determined her argument made no sense, “Wait, what? I'm not understanding—”

“I'm doing you a favor,” she pinched at his rosy cheeks and elicited a smile from him, “Trust me.”

So he did.

He followed along as she gave the bouncers their names. He followed her down the dimly lit staircase into the madness of the club. And finally, he followed her to a group of beautiful people waving them over.

Louis shoved his hands into his pockets as he shyly stood off to the side. Perrie made her rounds of kisses on the cheeks and cheery hello’s. Not wanting to feel like a spectacle in all this, Louis kept his eyes trained on the floor. It was animal print. Leopard to be exact. It slightly tugged at his memory. He knows he’s been somewhere with leopard print floors before—

“Lou!” his head perked up as Perrie hauled him over for introductions, “I’d like you to meet Leigh-Anne, Jade, Jesy, Niall, and last, but not least, Liam.”

A chorus of warm welcomes were sent his way. All of them were so bloody stunning. Louis had never been around such an attractive group of people.

“Hello,” he gave a small wave, “I’m Louis, it's nice to meet you all.”

He wasn't exactly intimidated, but six pairs of eyes on him was enough to let his gaze flicker to the side. A flash of familiarity caught his eye, but before he could look further into it, Perrie was pushing him closer into Liam’s space.

She was right. He was handsome. A mess of curls piled on top of his neatly trimmed head, kind eyes, a sweet smile, and a nicely toned physique. He was proper fit.

“Liam, this is my best mate, Louis. The one that I've been telling you about!” she bunched the two of them together, and carefully placed Liam’s arm around Louis’ shoulder.

Always so eager.

Liam laughed at Perrie’s obvious intentions, and slowly extracted his arm from around Louis, “S’nice to finally meet you,” he extended his hand forward and gripped with just enough firmness, “Perrie talks about you nonstop. Although, her description of you does no justice.”

Charming.

“Don't trust a word she says, it's all lies.” he grinned devilishly as she rolled her eyes.

“I'll leave you both to it.” she pranced manically and slotted herself next to the other blond. Ahh, fuck. Louis already forgot his name.

Liam indiscreetly cleared his throat next to him. Shit. Just the two of them now. Slightly awkward, but that might've just been on Louis’ behalf.

“So,” Liam cocked his hip and leaned his body against the mirrored wall, “Uh, w-where are you from?”

Yeah. It wasn't just on Louis’ behalf. But Liam was trying, and Louis was endeared.

“Why? Planning on taking me home?” he quirked a brow and watched as Liam flushed a deep red.

“Well, no, no. I was just–I didn't plan on it–but if you wanted to, not that I'm assuming—”

Too easy. Louis had him so adorably flustered without even lifting a finger. He batted his lashes and only half listened to Liam stumble over his words. He let his eyes wander over Liam's shoulder to the wall of mirrors behind him.

Louis knows he’s seen this place before and the weird energy in the room was only further confirming his suspicions. He felt like he was being watched. Felt like he was experiencing deja vú.

“Shit—m’sorry, Louis. I've gone and made it weird.” Liam visibly cringed and Louis focused his attention back on him.

“Don't worry, love,” he adjusted the collar of Liam’s button down, and ran his hands across his chest, “I was just trying to get you worked up.”

Liam chuckled out a sigh of relief, “Thank goodness. Felt like a complete knob.”

Louis smiled up at him and further invaded his space, “How about you go get us some drinks, yeah? Loosen us up a bit?”

Liam nodded excitedly and skipped over to the bar queue. Louis’ eyes met Perrie's, hers silently questioning how things were going, and Louis rolling his into the back of his skull. _Be nice_ , she mouthed, and went back to her conversation.

Louis sighed to himself. He was being nice. Nice enough to humor the lad even though he wasn't even slightly interested. There was just no chemistry. It wasn't his fault Perrie was such a terrible match maker.

Heavy bass thumped his attention to the dance floor and his eyes lingered on the grinding bodies. Beams of light bounced off the mirrored walls and Louis couldn't stop himself from thinking. He knows this place. Leopard print upholstery, glass walls, the dodgy staircase it took to get down here, the more than dingy pavement cluttered with rubbish.

Oh, fuck.

As soon as he realized exactly where he was, Liam hesitantly approached him with a pained look, one drink in hand.

“What’s wrong?” Louis half shouted over the booming music.

“Uh, well,” he reached his free hand to scratch at the back of his neck as distress etched into his features, “The barman wouldn't allow me to buy you a drink. Said if you wanted something, y’have to go up and get it yourself.”

What the fuck?

Louis’ brows creased in confusion as he raised on his toes to peek over at the bar.

Of course. Of _fucking_ course. Curls and dimples adorned by a cocky smile, and his annoyingly attractive signature wink.

Harry.

Louis knew this place was all too familiar. Just a few feet over, was where they first met. Where Harry protected him without even _knowing_ him. Fuck. How did Louis not realize sooner? And how did he forget that Harry said he worked here?

Louis was fuming. His muscles tensed with rage and his hands shook with frustration. He wasn't sure why he was so irritated and he definitely wasn't sure why his cock twitched with interest. Jesus, the things Harry did to him.

“Is everything alright?” Liam’s worried voice reeled him back in.

“Everything’s fine, love, nothing but a thorn in my side,” he was going to have to reuse that one. He felt like Harry would appreciate an idiom-turned-pun so specific to them. A small, believable, smile crept up on his face before he spoke again, “Just—excuse me for a sec, yeah?”  
  
Liam nodded graciously and blushed when Louis pinched at his hip. What a sweet boy. If only Harry didn't consume Louis’ every last thought.

Louis marched over toward the bar. His irritation was poorly masked and it only seemed to be egging Harry on. Louis elbowed his way up to the bar top and planted himself right in front of Harry.

“What the h—”

“Hey, baby,” his honeyed voice warmed Louis to the bone, “I've missed you.”

Louis gagged, “Piss off.”

“I'm happy to see you, too,” he smirked, throwing a towel over his shoulder, and leaning into Louis’ space, “You visiting me at work is nice for a change. I could get used to it.”

“I'm not here for you.” Louis gritted through his teeth.

“Oh, right, you're here on a date,” he smiled widely as if he was in on something Louis wasn't, “How's that going for you?”

“I'm _not_ on a date, either. I was set up without warning.”

“So, you're available, then?”

Christ, did he ever quit?

“No,” Louis bit, “Just thirsty.”

“Sure, sure,” he leaned back from the bar top and cocked his head to the side, “Any drink you want is on the house,” he paused to bite his lip causing Louis to absolutely shiver, “If you let me take you out.”

God. So completely unrelenting and insufferable. But somehow, Louis couldn't fucking get enough.

“You’re out of your bloody mind.” he laughed at the absurdity.

“I think it's a fair trade,” he shrugged, “It’s ultimately up to you, though.”

“Fat chance.”

“As you wish, darling.” Harry bowed and moved down the length of the bar top to serve other people.

 _God_. Louis wanted so badly to say yes. Wanted, more than anything, to spend a few hours alone with Harry. But that would mean giving in. Would make him vulnerable all over again.

He wanted to trust Harry, though. Wanted to give him the chance to prove himself.

Louis’ buzz had fizzled into sobriety by now and he could really, _really_ , use another drink. He wanted it. Needed it.

“Alright,” Louis sighed out and immediately Harry was back in front of him, “You can take me out.”

“Really?” Harry’s smile stretched from one end of his face to the other and his eyes shimmered from underneath the flashing lights.

Wow. Louis’ never seen him so lit up.

“Yes, Christ, may I have my free drink now?” he masked his adoration with irritation successfully.

To himself, at least.

Harry softly smiled and went on with concocting something on the rocks, with cherries, amber liquid, and grenadine. He carefully slid it over and placed a black straw against the rim, “You know, you don't actually have to, yeah? I only want to take you out if you actually _want_ to.”

His eyes were sincere as they watched Louis sip from his drink. Mmm. Amaretto. The same drink they shared all those months ago. That was–nice.

“I do, but make it interesting, yeah? Dinner is quite boring, and most of the time, awkward.” Louis gently spoke through sugary sweet lips, “Here,” he fished his mobile from his pocket and slid it over to Harry, “I’ll text you when I'm free, yeah?”

Harry beamed and Louis blushed. Luckily the lighting was too dim to tell.

Once his information was saved, Harry handed the phone back over, and kept his hands locked with Louis’. His thumbs rubbed soothing circles into the back of his knuckles and all they did was stare. Louis wanted to kiss him.

Instead, Harry brought his lips to the back of Louis’ hands and pressed into them, “Enjoy the rest of your date.”

Louis deflated and cursed Harry a million times over in his head, “Oh, don’t worry, I will.”

Louis threw a wink over his shoulder before grabbing his drink, and walking back towards the corner of the club.

Perrie’s eyes bored into his and Louis swallowed hard. Shit. He side stepped her, hoping to avoid her ripping him a new one in public. Liam’s side looked welcoming enough, and he cuddled in, forcing Liam to do the same. It wasn't criminal, he knew he wouldn't be going home with him, and knew he wouldn't insinuate there was ever a chance. Besides, it seemed to slightly calm Perrie’s heated stare, and Liam was warmth personified.

“Good?” Liam questioned politely.

“Yeah,” he looked up through his lashes and caught Harry’s eyes from across the room, “Everything’s good.”

 

\--

 


	9. Chapter 9

“I thought you went home with Liam?” Perrie interrogated from behind the front counter at the flower shop.

Louis hasn't seen her since their night out in Brixton. He mostly avoided her the rest of that evening, knowing there was tension brewing behind her stare. He had a pretty good idea why. It was likely something to do with him sneaking glances between Liam and Harry. Chatting up one and discreetly making eyes at the other. She might've caught onto what was actually happening and she most likely didn't like it. Either way, she was doing her best at getting to the bottom of it whilst passing it off as catching up.

“Well, I guess _technically_ he took me home, but that was the extent of it,” he shrugged nonchalantly, “He was sweet.”

“Hmm. Who was that behind the bar you kept flirting with?”

Shit.

“I wasn't flirting,” he quickly denied. Probably too quickly, “It was Harry. He, um, he works there and wasn't letting Liam buy me drinks,” her face twisted in annoyance, “It was nothing really. He ended up giving us free drinks all night, so.”

“You knew he worked there? And you didn't say anything?”

“I didn't realize where we were until I saw him,” he fiddled nervously with the fabric of his jumper. It somehow felt like he was explaining himself to his mum, “That's where Harry and I met, actually.”

“Oh? You mean where he left you?” she snipped causing Louis to wince, “Must've been a special moment for you two, huh? Being reunited once again. Did all the memories come flooding back?”

She smiled through her words but her sarcasm was suffocating. It almost felt like Louis wronged _her_ in some way.

He swallowed thickly before walking around the counter and plopping himself on top of it, “Is everything alright, Pez?”

“Everything’s lovely, babe. Is everything alright with _you_?” she asked pointedly.

“I'm good, but you seem a bit worked up over this. Did I do something wrong and you're just not telling me? Or is it because things didn't work out with Li—””

“It's nothing to do with Liam” she interrupted and stood to retrieve her belongings, “It’s probably just uni stress getting the best of me. I dunno.” she shouldered her bag hastily and moved toward the exit, “M’gonna be late for my seminar but we’ll catch up on all of this later, yeah?”

“Yeah...” he answered unsure as to if she meant it, “Are we good, Pez?”

Distraught was clear on his face. Perrie was his _only_ friend here, and has been since the moment she sat next to him during fresher’s week at Goldsmiths. She was the reason he even had his florist position in the first place.

He hated the idea of them actually fighting, and not in a playful way, and he hated that this felt a bit more serious.

Her stiff shoulders deflated as she stomped back over towards Louis, “Oi, there’s no pouting in the flower shop. Chin up,” she pressed an obnoxious kiss to his right cheek, “We’re always good. Just want the best for my best mate.”

He knew, for her, that didn't mean Harry.

And although she once encouraged Louis to give him a chance, he could tell that graciousness was quickly wearing off.

Louis nodded with a smile and was glad Perrie wasn't upset with him for now, “So I’ll see you Friday, then? Pizza, wine, and trashy American telly?”

“Ahhhh, shit! Shit, shit, shit,” she cursed as she palmed her own head, “Totally slipped my mind, but I'm actually going back home this weekend. Mum has been begging and I finally gave in. Please don't hate me. I promise I'll make it up to us!”

“As if I could ever hate you,” he rolled his eyes and stood up to guide her to the door, “Enjoy your time at home, yeah? Now run or you're going to be late.”

“I'll see you, Lou. Don't miss me too much!” she departed with a silly wave and her pearly whites on display.

Louis chuckled from inside the shop as she clumsily sprinted toward the bus.

Huh. His first weekend without plans in ages. He could really use that time to spoil himself. Take away, warm baths, and possibly squeezing Harry into the mix?

Sounded like a dream.

 

\--

 

Friday afternoon agonizingly dwindled into a crisp, Friday evening, cooling Louis’ warm cheeks, and filling his lungs with autumn air. He’d been on his feet for nearly 10 hours, covering half of Perrie’s shift, and doubling the amount of arrangements he usually completes in a day. Exhaustion nipped at his heels as he locked the front door of the shop, and trudged on his short walk home. He wanted to crash as soon as he stepped through his front door, but even more than that, he wanted to see Harry.

He was finally ready to take that chance.

His mobile burned a hole in his pocket with each step he took. The night was young, but he felt like he couldn't wait another second before contacting him. He hasn't been this hopeful for anything in awhile. He dipped into the tight fabric of his jeans, pulling out his mobile, and hovering over Harry’s name. A pink tulip emoji attached. Cute.

_I'm free tonight if you're up for it? -Louis_

Fuck, fuck, _fuck_! He quickly pocketed his phone as nerves began to rise within him. What if Harry was already busy? What if he changed his mind over the week of silence from Louis? Ugh. _Just relax_ , he repeated to himself over and over as he closer approached his flat.

A buzz rattled against his thigh and he winced at his spike of jitters. It took every ounce of self restraint to not reach into his trousers and check on Harry’s reply. He was psyching himself up and he needed to calm down.

Another buzz shook his nerves as he trekked up the steps to his flat. He clutched his hand against the bulge in his pocket, silently reassuring himself he’d check it as soon as he walked through his front door. Two unread messages were apparently enough motivation for him to jog up the neverending flights of stairs to his floor. Skipping every other step and pushing through the burn in his legs. Breathlessly, he scurried down the hall, and fiddled with his keys until, finally, he was safely within the walls of his own flat.

His pristine white trainers slipped off effortlessly as he locked the door behind him and made himself comfortable against his plushy sofa. As his body sunk into the cushions, he fished out his mobile, and bit down on a manic grin threatening to take over his face.

_Was beginning to think you forgot about me. x_

_Dress warm xx_

 

\--

 

Shit.

Louis frantically slipped his suede jacket over his shoulders and quickly shoved his socked feet into the only pair of boots he owned. Harry was early and incessantly buzzing his flat. Louis couldn't stand the feeling of being frazzled and absolutely hated being rushed. Their agreed time was half eight and it was currently twenty-five past. Louis could have peacefully perfected his look with that amount of time, but instead, he was aimlessly gathering his belongings, and hurriedly dabbing a bit of raspberry chapstick to his lips, before running out the door.

He huffed and puffed his way down the seemingly endless flights of stairs. Something about Harry had him so irritated. Louis hadn't even bloody seen him yet, and he’s already made his way under his skin. But even then, it didn't stop Louis from reaching the bottom of the stairs, with a stomach full of butterflies, and eagerly making his way through the front door.

 _Wow_.

Harry was always so stunning. Curls wild, green eyes dilated in the dim light, half bitten smile with a dimple full of mischief. _Flawless_. Louis was reduced to a pile of coy smiles and rosy cheeks. He couldn't fucking help what this beautiful man did to him.

“Hey, Lou,” Harry warmly greeted as he pulled his finger away from the buzzer. His eyes shimmered, and his tongue mindlessly traced the outline of his lips, as he drank Louis in, “Missed you.”

Louis cocked his head to the side, slipping his hands up against the exposed skin of Harry’s chest, and smiling up at him flirtatiously, “Missed me, hmm?”

Harry folded his arms around Louis’ waist and pulled them within a breath of each other, “Yeah, baby. Thought about you all week.”

“Yeah? ‘S that why you're so bloody early?”

Laughter rumbled from deep within Harry’s chest. God. Louis wanted to wrap himself in the sound and keep it tucked away for his enjoyment only.

“Would you rather I not be punctual?” he countered with a squeeze to Louis’ hips, “Didn't want to keep my boy waiting.”

Louis scoffed, why did he agree to this again?

“I'm not your boy,” he spoke around a deceiving grin, “but it's nice that you put in the effort, thanks for that.” he added sarcastically.

“Anything for you, love.”

Both of them shyly laughed into each other. Cool breeze drawing them nearer and body heat chaining them to each other. Louis could stay here all night. Swaying in Harry’s embrace and allowing himself to be showered in attention, but he's sure Harry planned something for them, and he was curious to see what it could be.

“Where are you taking me tonight?”

Fingers dug into Louis’ sensitive skin and Harry’s gaze lingered on Louis’ moonlit face. It was a bit unfamiliar being the reason for someone else’s stare. Harry was motionless and seemed to be focused solely on Louis’ features, but Louis enjoyed it. Loved the warmth behind his fond eyes and loved that it was a safe feeling.

“Earth to Harry,” Louis waved a hand in front of Harry’s face, successfully removing him from his daze.

“Sorry, sorry,” he awkwardly laughed and shook his head at himself, “I, um, I was thinking we could ride around London, see all the touristy parts and whatnot, and maybe stop for some coffee? Or whatever you like, really.”

“Sounds good,” Louis let his hands travel up to the back of Harry's neck where springy curls tangled between his fingers, “Why did you tell me to dress warm, then?”

“Well, it's chilly out, and it tends to feel a lot colder while riding on the back of a motorbike.”

Oh fuck. Louis completely forgot about that giant hunk of metal Harry used as transportation. There was no chance Louis was hopping on the back of that thing.

“Absolutely not.” he withdrew his hands, opting to cross them over his chest stubbornly.

“Oh come on, Lou,” Harry whined, “I brought an extra helmet, and I won't let anything bad happen to you, yeah? It's completely safe and I wanted to be able to take you for a ride before winter rolls in.”

“No! What if you take too sharp of a turn and I fly off the back of it? I have a future ahead of me and–”

“Relax, relax. That's not going to happen, love, I'm more careful than that. Have some faith,” he pulled Louis by his crossed arms down the front steps and over toward his bike. Fuck, it was so intimidating. Louis’ nerves consumed him and had his body shaking like a bloody leaf, “You can hold on to me as tight as you want, I won't mind. I know it's a bit scary at first but I promise you'll love it.”

Harry was met with near silence. The only sound being the chatter of Louis’ teeth and the faint pants of his breathing. His mind was at war with itself. On one end he was terrified, slightly nauseous, and ready to bolt back into the safety of his flat, but on the other, he was considering it. Was almost excited for this new experience. But fear was rapidly overwhelming him.  
  
“Here,” Harry pulled Louis from his anxieties, handing him a pair of gloves, and placing a shiny black helmet atop his head. Louis slipped the leather gloves onto his shaky hands and noticed they swallowed his up. These must have been Harry’s, “Chin up.”

Louis lifted his head, allowing Harry to strap the helmet on. He felt like a giant knob, and the fringe he worked so hard to achieve, was absolutely gone to shit. Never has he felt so–silly.

“You're a proper biker now.” Harry huffed behind a chuckle.

“I'm going back inside–”

“No, no, no, I'm sorry,” Harry giggled as he caught Louis by the arm, “You look amazing, baby, I promise. Come here.” Harry took him by the hand as he swung a leg over the bike, “Just hop on behind me and feel it out.”

Louis withdrew his hand immediately, “I don't trust that you won't speed off with me flailing around for my life.”

“The bike’s not even on, Lou.”

Oh. Right.

“Well–just,” Louis fumbled with his words, “Give me the keys so I know you won’t.”

“Oi, just trust me, babe,” Harry pointed to the bulge of keys tucked safely in his pocket, Louis couldn't help if his eyes lingered a bit, “They're not going anywhere unless you're comfortable, yeah? Hop on from the left side first. Use my shoulders for balance if you need to.”

Harry slipped on his own pair of gloves, kicked back the kick stand, and fit a helmet to his own head. God, something about this was so fucking hot. Maybe it was the element of danger, or perhaps it was just Harry in leather, instructing Louis to do certain things, and letting him know he would be taken care of. _Fuck_. Either way, it was alluring enough for Louis to step up to the bike.

His knees shook as he clung onto Harry’s shoulders and awkwardly swung a leg to straddle the bike. His shaking hips slotted snugly against Harry’s and his fingers dug deeply into Harry’s waist. Louis had no idea how he was going to get through this alive.

“Good?” Harry asked half muffled by his helmet.

Louis gulped in fear, wrapping his arms tighter, and resting his cheek against the shoulder of Harry's jacket, “Good, yeah. Just a bit scared.”

“I'm right here,” Harry laced his gloved fingers between Louis’ around his waist, “I've got you, yeah? There's nothing to be afraid of.”

His words were so genuine and they hung in the air above Louis, calming his breathing, and easing his racing mind. Harry’s hand didn't leave his and although there were layers of leather gloves between them, the gentle circles traced against his wrist were soothing his nerves to a mild shiver.

It took a minute, but he felt safe and felt like he could trust Harry.

“D’you mind if I start it? I won't take off, I promise.” Harry spoke tenderly. Clearly in no rush to do something Louis might be uncomfortable with.

He really was incredibly sweet, and that made Louis want to do this for him. To swallow down his fears and be brave. Even if it was a death machine he was perched upon.

“Yeah, um, we can go ahead and take off, just–slow and steady, please.”

“Are you sure?” Harry squeezed Louis’ hand reassuringly.

Louis nodded against his shoulder and gently squeezed back, “I’m sure, yeah.”

Louis clenched his eyes shut as Harry unlaced their hands and maneuvered his keys from his pocket. The deafening rumble of the bike reverberated through Louis’ body, and surely the alleyways of his neighbourhood. Louis’ heart was bound to beat out of his chest, but there was absolutely no turning back now.

Harry gripped the handles of his bike and looked both ways before leading them out onto the empty road, “Hold on tight.”

 

\--

 

River Thames shimmered serenely against the pastel moonlight. Water flowing listlessly beneath the Vauxhall bridge and minimal waves lazily raising to the surface. The constant rumble of Harry’s bike, that was once an annoyance, now lulled Louis into a state of calm. His grip on Harry’s waist never loosened but his apprehensiveness dwindled after the first few minutes.

Harry, of course, was right. Louis _did_ love this. The crisp air nipping at his cheeks, the drop in his stomach as a result of sharp turns, the warmth radiating off of Harry’s body through his thick leather clothing, and being able to see his city in a whole new light. It was all so enjoyable and Louis knew he'd want to do this again soon. Hopefully with Harry.

Louis was so deep in thought he hardly noticed the two of them rolling to a stop.

“Want you to see Buckingham Palace at night.” Harry yelled over the sound of his motor.

Louis has visited the palace a thousand times before. Has walked right up to the gates, marveled at the gardens, and dipped his toes in the Victoria memorial fountain. But no matter how many times he's seen it, the chance of seeing it again didn't dull his excitement, and this was a whole new way of experiencing it.

Tourists and locals alike crowded the walkways and busy intersections. Horns honking, musicians strumming, and languages from every corner of the world, contributed to the soundtrack of this city. Louis often forgot how massive London was, and just how many cultures made a home here. Taking a ride around Westminster was a perfect way to be reminded.

Georgian and Victorian buildings lined the lively streets with their weathered brick and iron windows. The architecture was so beautiful this side of the river. Lit up under amber lights, adorned with neon signs, and deeply rich with history. Louis was grateful he could fall in love with this place time and time again.

The left and right turns abruptly halted into a long narrow road. Crisp autumn leaves that shed throughout the day crunched under Harry’s tires as he weaved in and out of tight spaces between cars and busses. Louis clenched his eyes shut, burying his face into Harry’s shoulder, and further tightening the hold on his waist. Harry was nearly toeing the line of too reckless before they rolled to a stop, and stalled there for a moment.

“Baby,” Harry shouted from behind his helmet and gently tapped against Louis’ thigh, “Open your eyes.”

Louis blinked a few times, allowing his vision to adjust, and take in the sight in front of him. The two of them were sat only a red light away from Buckingham Palace. The fountain before it a glowing mirage of yellow and gold and the building itself gleaming majestically.

Louis’ lips curved into a smile as the light switched to green and Harry’s engine roared to life. Louis ignored the on-lookers in favour of cuddling in closer to Harry and setting his sights on the attractions ahead of them.

It was a short ride up to where traffic was allowed. Certain areas were barricaded off and getting up close meant getting off and parking. So they whizzed by slowly. Louis took in the beauty of the night and basked in the heat of the romance. He couldn't help if his fingers dug deeper into Harry’s flesh on account of his heartbeat picking up in speed.

And he also couldn't help if he pressed a pattern of kisses along the expanse of his shoulder.

\--

“What do I get if you end up liking it?”

After about an hour of riding around the touristy areas of London, Harry pulled up to a dimly lit coffee house, with quirky mugs, and mismatched decor, and ordered them two lattes. One with a shot of caramel and the other with a shot of hazelnut. Neither appealed to Louis, and although his body was begging for warmth, espresso and steamed milk would never pass his lips. No matter how much Harry prodded.

“Nothing,” Louis buried himself closer into the crook of Harry’s neck. Their booth was secluded enough for him to practically crawl into Harry’s lap and leech every ounce of body heat Harry had to offer, “‘m not going to try it. Just cuddle me, please.”

“I’ll cuddle you after you drink this,” he withdrew his arm, taking his warmth with him, and pushing the oversized mug in front of Louis, “C’mon, babe, you're freezing.”

Louis shook his head stubbornly, “I don't want your concentrated caffeine,” he clung to Harry’s arm and pouted to the best of his abilities, “I just want your cuddles.”

Harry raised a brow as he took a steamy sip of his caramel latte. Louis inwardly cooed at his foamy mustache and shivered when Harry licked it clean.

“You don't want my cuddles. You only want me for my body heat.” he shook his head with mirth.  
  
“What? As if that's such a bad thing.”

“It's a great thing,” he took another sip and carefully set the mug back down, “And it could all be yours if you just take a sip. You might want to hurry, though. It's a bit shit when it gets cold.”

“It's shit either way.”

“How would you know if you've yet to try it?”

Louis sighed a frustrated breath and knocked his head against Harry’s shoulder, “You're. So. Aggravating.”

“Nah, you're just not used to being told _no_ ,” he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of Louis’ head, “Drink up.”

It was a bit weird just how well Harry knew him without really _knowing_ him. And it was true. Louis always got his way. A single flutter of his lashes had men practically crawling on their knees after him. But not Harry. He challenged Louis in a way no one ever did before. He was fucking maddening. But Louis wouldn't have him any other way and he was glad he could spend his time with someone so stimulating.

Louis glanced at the steaming cup in front of him. It couldn't be too bad could it? And even if it was, it would definitely serve the purpose of warming his bones. He lifted his head from Harry’s shoulder and wrapped his frigid fingers around the piping hot ceramic.

Harry watched silently from behind him, biting down a smile, and twirling his fingers at the nape of Louis’ neck. Louis ignored his smug aura and brought the cup to his lips. He carefully blew against the surface and inhaled the rich espresso with just a hint of hazelnut. Jesus, it smelled heavenly. He tipped the liquid back against his lips, foam melting against his tongue, and heat chipping away at the cold.

Bloody hell it was delicious.

“Mmm, love it when you listen to me,” Harry wrapped his arms around Louis’ waist and jostled him gently, “Come and get your cuddles.”

“Mm–won't be necessary, lad,” he wiggled his hips free from Harry’s hold, “This latte should warm me up just fine.”

Louis went in for another sip, but was quickly interrupted by the possessive hands of Harry pulling him back, and squeezing him into his chest. Louis set the mug back down as Harry kissed and nipped at every inch of skin he could reach. Louis wished he could be irritated at Harry’s sudden clinginess, but his airy giggles gave away just how much he enjoyed it, and in that moment, he didn't have to pretend.

 

\--

 

Rain droplets trickled down mistily as Harry raced against the impending storm to get Louis home. The road beneath them became slick and Louis’ heart pounded heavily with each turn. They were only a few minutes away from his flat, but the gloomy weather fogged the avenue, and the street lamps did little to illuminate their path.

It wasn't their intention to stay out so late. Their conversation just happened to flow naturally, and learning more and more about one another, never ceased.

Harry didn't live very far. Was employed in Brixton but resided in Peckham. Only a twenty minute ride from where Louis stayed. Harry was a student at University of Arts London, where he studied Comparative Literature and Film Studies. Suited him perfectly and also explained his _poetic_ ways. He also had a mother and sister back in Holmes Chapel, where he learned to ride and fix bikes in his free time, and busted his chin open on his very first throttle. Harry had a vast amount of stories and a completely intrigued Louis to share them with.

They talked until their coffee went cold and the barista kicked them out, and by then, it was already midnight and quickly clouding over.

A booming crack of thunder rattled in the sky as Harry slowly rolled to a stop in front of his flat, “Sorry I can't walk you up,” regret was evident in his words even as they were muffled behind a helmet, “I've got to try and make it back before the storm.”

“Are you kidding me?” Louis carefully swung a leg over the slippery bike and stepped back on steady ground, “I'm not letting you drive in this, just park around back, it's covered.”

“No, babe, it's fine, really–”

Harry rambled on and on as Louis rolled his eyes and removed his helmet. Their evening together was sweet, and so, so lovely, but being in such close proximity with Harry for _hours_ had his mouth salivating for cock.

And there wasn't exactly a polite way to put that.

“Harry,” Louis cut him off whilst cocking his hip and holding Harry’s spare helmet behind his back, “Just park, yeah?” Harry's eyes met his, completely oblivious to Louis’ intentions, “If you want your helmet back, I’ll be waiting at the top of the steps.”

Harry’s brows creased where only part of his face was visible. It took him a minute, but it finally hit him. Eyes filled with desire, he revved his engine obnoxiously, shooting Louis a wink, and pulling off to speed around the corner.

 _Fuck yes_.

Another crack of thunder ricocheted off the clouds as Louis skipped up the steps to his flat. He patiently awaited Harry’s arrival as the rain began to pelt down at a steadier pace.

Louis’ insides began to shiver maddeningly as the minutes ticked by and the breeze picked up. His suede jacket was nearly soaked through by now and icy rain drops dripped from the ends of his hair.

God. Where was Harry?

Oh no.

No, no, no, _please_ , don't let this be happening again. Fucking hell, please don’t let Harry run off and disappear before things got heated, _again_. Louis wiped the pesky raindrops from his face and leaned forward to peek around the corner.

Thank fuck. A lean silhouette ran down the pavement as the rain began to unrelentingly pour down. Harry must have been drenched from head to toe.

“Hurry, it's bloody freezing!” Louis yelled over the rumbling thunder.

Harry hauled himself up the steps two at a time and crowded into Louis’ space, “Sorry, sorry, had to find a spot with a bit more coverage.”

“S’fine, let's go get dry–”

“Wait,” Harry tugged Louis to face him, pausing any progress of getting indoors, “Can I kiss you in the rain?”

He couldn't actually be serious, could he?

“Are you really that big of a sap?” Louis blinked away the rain drops and shivered in Harry’s arms.

“You have no idea.” and before Louis could reply with a snarky comment, Harry pulled him in by the waist, and dipped him.

Searing red lips pressed against Louis’ nearly blue ones, warming him to the bone, and filling him with arousal. Louis’ mouth dropped open, enabling Harry’s tongue to intertwine with his own, and swirl together in their own familiar dance. Harry’s grip never faltered even as his right hand slid to cup the curve of Louis’ arse. Soft whimpers mingled with the electrifying clash of lightning, and just for a moment, Louis pondered why their romance was so emphatically cinematic.

Harry pulled off breathlessly, awe clear in his eyes, “I would take you right here if you’d let me.”

His words sent a spark down Louis’ spine, causing him to stand upright, and pull them through the door. Harry was on him even as they climbed the endless steps to his floor. Palms never leaving his hips and desire only growing for each other.

Louis ignored his chattering teeth, and soaked clothing, as they reached the top of his floor, and scurried down the hallway. Louis was nearly to his door when strong arms wrapped around his waist and maneuvered him over Harry’s shoulder.

“Let me down you tosser, we’re almost there!” Louis practically whined at the top of his lungs.

“Quiet,” Harry ordered, “You have neighbours trying to sleep.”

Shit. He was right.

Louis continued to silently squirm and wiggle around from his position in Harry’s arms. Kicking his legs about and knocking Harry's spare helmet against his back. It was useless. Harry didn't budge as he leisurely walked them down the hall. Ugh. Whatever. Just a few more steps and they'd be there, anyway.

“Hand me your keys, love.” his words were gentle as his fingers dug roughly into the back of Louis’ thighs.

Louis shakily pulled his keys from the wet pocket of his jacket, and dangled them in the general area of Harry’s hands. He slowly pried them from Louis’ fingers and turned to pause in front of his front door. Fucking _finally._

Harry gradually pushed through the door, letting the two of them in, and closing it shut behind them. He placed Louis on the ground, and before he could drop the keys on the side table, Louis’ lips attached to his in a haste.

Harry entertained it for a second, but before Louis could pry their lips open, Harry abruptly tugged him back by the hair, “Relax, baby,” a grin slid upon his face as Louis was nearly in tears. He wanted him so fucking _bad_ , “We have all night.”

“No–need you now. I can't wait that bloody long.”

Harry’s wet chest glistened in the minimal light as he chuckled lowly. Louis’ mouth practically watered at the sight, “Denying yourself the pleasure only increases the pleasure.”

“I've denied myself since the day I met you,” he whimpered, “Isn't that long enough?”

“Jesus,” Harry growled and tightened his grip in Louis’ hair, “You're so fucking hot.”

“Bed?”

“Please.”

Louis led him by the wrist. Walking them down the hallway, kicking off their shoes, and shoving themselves through the door. He didn't bother shutting it. He was too busy shucking off his clothing and tossing them in the direction of his laundry bin. Goosebumps prickled along his skin and he slowly peeled his briefs off his body, sneakily putting on a show for the fully dressed man in front of him.

“Turn around for me.” Harry's voice dropped at least ten octaves and Louis’ cock stiffened at the sound. He slowly turned away and preened under the attention. Harry groaned from behind him and moved to press wet kisses from the side of his neck, down to the tip of his shoulder. Massive warm hands wrapped around his hips and wet clothing skirted against his backside. Louis tensed at the chilly feeling and cried out as a finger grazed against his nipple. “You're so unreal,” he whispered into the skin of Louis’ neck, “Want to give you whatever you want. Anything.”

Louis was reduced to whimpers as Harry sunk his teeth into Louis’ shoulder and pinched roughly at his chest.

“Wanna–fuck–wanna suck you off,” Louis spoke desperately, “Please.”

“God, you're gagging for it,” Harry spun Louis to face him and softly brought a hand to his face, thumb teasing along the thin lines of his lips, “Could've had anything in the world, and all you want is my cock in your mouth. So filthy, baby.”

“I’ve wanted it for so long.”

A dazzling smile spread across Harry's face, “Yeah?” Louis nodded shyly. Cheeks stained pink, “Get to it, then.”

Harry punctuated his order with a sweet kiss to the lips, where he lingered for a moment too long, and caressed Louis’ naked body a bit too soft, but that did little to deter Louis from pushing Harry's jacket off his shoulders, and getting to work on the buttons of his silky shirt. Louis briskly dropped to his knees, kissing his way down Harry’s wet torso, discovering new tattoos, and spending extra time getting to know them.

“Can't believe you hid these from me.” Louis bit harshly into the inked skin of his hips. Fucking laurels.

Harry hissed at the pain and practically ripped the shirt from off his back. Louis matched his urgency as he soothed the sting of his bite with his careful tongue, and busied himself with the zip of Harry’s jeans. He tugged hard, taking down the denim, and his damp pants all at once. Harry was incredibly hard, and his massive length nearly whacked Louis in the face.

He sensually nosed along the underside of his cock as Harry stepped the rest of the way out of his trousers. His sharp scent drove Louis mad and he couldn't help but kitten lick at whatever he could reach. He was so desperate for it.

“Let me feel your pretty lips, baby.” Louis looked up from his lashes as he teasingly sprinkled kisses from the bottom of his balls to the slit of his cock. Harry shuddered from above him. Threading his hands through the damp strands of Louis’ hair and wincing through his words, “No teasing, love.”

“ _Denying yourself the pleasure only increases the pleasure._ ” Louis flawlessly imitated Harry’s voice from just a minute ago, proud smile taking over his face.

Harry smirked and pressed the tip of his cock up against Louis’ lips, “Don't make me repeat myself.”

Louis swallowed hard as chills zinged through his body. He didn’t usually enjoy being told what to do, but with Harry, it seemed to be fucking exhilarating.

He took Harry in both hands and sucked against the tip. His hands moved up and down against his length as his tongue dipped in his slit messily. Harry was so fucking big and tasted exactly how Louis imagined.

Harry’s brows creased as he watched Louis take him down further and further. His thumbs slid out from Louis’ hair and moved to feel where Louis’ lips obscenely stretched around his cock.

“Fuck, your mouth is so good. Taking me down s-so well, Louis.” the praise went straight to Louis’ throbbing erection and he slid his hands between his legs to ease the tension, “Mm, hands behind your back, yeah? Want you to come from my hands alone,” Louis whined with a mouth full of cock, causing Harry to slightly thrust his hips forward, and push against the back of Louis’ throat. He quickly withdrew from Harry’s member, letting out a string of surprised chokes, “Shit! ‘M so sorry, baby, I—”

“No, no,” Louis cleared his throat once more before speaking again, “I can handle it, please,” he took all of Harry down in one go, shocking the both of them, and bobbing his head back and forth. _Fuck_ , he’s never wanted something so bad. Harry cursed under his breath as Louis massaged his tongue against the thick vein of Harry’s underside. His uncut tip pressed against the tight heat of Louis’ throat, causing Louis to moan, and pull away once more, “Fuck my mouth.”

“You sure?” Harry was breathless and completely blown away at Louis’ skill.

Louis wrapped his lips snugly around the tip, whilst sitting on his hands, and looking up at Harry, silently giving him permission.

The desperate sheen in his eyes was all Harry needed. He started off gentle. Soft thrusts of the hips, leading to sharp tugs of the hair, and saliva gathering at the corners of Louis’ mouth. Louis unabashedly moaned at the feeling, causing Harry to fuck his mouth faster, and sloppier, and all the while, Harry let praise freely fall from his mouth. Deeming Louis his good boy and marveling at how fantastic his mouth was.

“Lou,” Harry panted as his hips thrust erratically, “Gonna come, can you swallow for me, baby?”

Louis hummed out his compliance and hollowed out his cheeks intensely. Harry prolonged it for all but a minute longer, before he was spilling down Louis’ throat, and gently caressing his face.

Louis swallowed down easily. Absolutely gone off the taste of Harry.

He was quickly lifted to his full height, knees stiff from the wooden floors, and lips pried open by Harry's hungry mouth. Louis’ cock was suddenly engulfed by the rough warmth of Harry's fist. It was _just_ on the right side of too dry and he knew he wouldn't be able to last for long.

“Harry–God–please don't stop. S-so good.”

“How badly do you want to come? Tell me how much you want it.”

Louis moaned as Harry quickly flicked his wrist and thumbed over his slit, “Fuck—want to come so badly, _please_. I've been so good for you.”

He’s never had to beg to for release, but it felt oddly incredible, and he’d plead for hours if he had to. Harry bit down on a smile, clearly pleased with what he’s reduced Louis too. His free hand drifted between Louis’ cheeks, and the tip of his middle finger brushed against his entrance, “Come for me.”

And Louis did. Up against his chest, over Harry’s fist, and between their bare tummies. His orgasm went on for so long, he felt like it would never end. Harry kissed him through it, holding him close, and giving Louis all the time and attention he needed.

Eventually, Louis came down from his high, pecking Harry softly on the lips, and clinging his arms around Harry’s neck. He was delightedly boneless and was glad he had Harry to hang off of.

“You're so perfect, Louis. Can't believe I got to have you in such an intimate way.” he pressed his lips to Louis’ and rubbed his hands softly against Louis’ sides.

He felt his body being backed up toward his bed, and being gently laid down against it. Shit. They didn't even get the chance to make it over here.

Harry crouched down to press a kiss to the center of Louis’ forehead. A damp article of clothing wiped against Louis’ torso as Harry cleaned off the slowly dying come, and repeatedly stroked his hair back behind his ear.

Louis never wanted this to end.

“Will you stay?” Louis squeaked. Throat still slightly raw from being fucked.

Harry laughed at his dazed state but nonetheless crawled into bed behind him. Louis held down a squeal and allowed his body to be pulled back into Harry’s. He was so warm. Louis needed warmth.

“I'll stay for as long as you'll have me.”

 

\--

 


	10. Chapter 10

Bleary eyes, weighed heavy with sleep, gradually blinked into focus. Radiant morning light beamed from Louis’ window, dousing the room in pink and yellow shades. The storm seemingly washed away every trace of gloominess.

Sleepy lips messily mouthed directly beneath Louis’ ear and lazy fingertips drew patterns into the crease of his thigh. His bare back was damp against the torso behind him, legs uncomplicatedly tangled, and cocks equally hard.

Harry stayed. He fucking _stayed_.

“Good morning, baby.”

_Bliss_. This morning was pure _bliss_.

Harry's hot breath ghosted against multiple wet patches on Louis’ neck. He must have been trying to wake Louis up this way, and Louis must have been sleeping sound. Louis’ eyes slipped shut as he wiggled backwards and thread his fingers between Harry’s.

“What's so good about it?” he grumbled out raspily, seamlessly masking the giddiness rising within him.

“You finally being awake,” he mouthed against the shell of Louis’ ear, sucking the lobe between his teeth, and further igniting the ball of arousal in Louis’ stomach, “I've missed you. Been thinking about you for hours.”

“Harry–I’m literally right here,” he bit down a laugh and pushed his bum further into Harry's space. His frustrated groan made it clear to Louis that his thoughts weren't all that pure, “What time is it, anyway?”

“Half nine last time I checked, why? D’you work today?”

“At one, yeah.” Louis confirmed through a yawn and the stretching of his limbs.

He twisted between the sheets, untangling their legs, and turning over to face Harry. His eyes were a hazy green, rimmed red with lack of sleep, and half lidded from the early hour. A sleepy smile rested on his face. He looked so warm. So inviting. Harry leaned in slowly, capturing Louis’ lips unhurriedly, and reaching his hand down to hitch Louis’ thigh over him.

“Perfect,” Harry whispered against Louis’ lips, “Gives me plenty of time to pack an overnight bag, and meet you back here, tonight.”

Louis threw his head back in laughter, giving Harry an open opportunity for neck kisses, “I must have missed the part where I invited you over for another night. How do you know I don't have another date planned, hm? With someone with a bigger bike, and a bigger cock?”

Harry cackled into his neck, body shaking with laughter, “Definitely not worried about that, babe,” he pressed Louis onto his back, hovering over him with his elbows, and slotting comfortably between his spread legs. Christ, it slipped Louis’ mind just how hard they both were, “Want to know what I was thinking about all morning?”

Lips pressed against Louis’ forehead gently, making his brain fuzzy with fondness, “Rather be sleeping or summat, but go on.”

Harry grinned down at him, licking his lips obscenely, before dipping down to hush louis with a kiss. God, he couldn't get enough.

“You remind me of summertime.” his words languidly slipped past his lips.

Oh, this should be great, “Yeah? How so, love?”

“Well,” he pressed his lips from the corner of Louis’, down to the underside of his neck, “Your skin glows even as the sky clouds over for autumn. Your cheeks flush the perfect shade of pink, sort of like when you've been sitting in the blistering heat for hours, and finally come indoors to cool off. Your hair is always effortlessly windswept, with hints of red and gold shining off of your slightly curled ends,” Louis’ breath hitched as Harry kissed his way down to the middle of his chest, “You taste like a summer storm. One that tingles against your heated skin and melts coolly against your tongue.” he kissed down Louis’ torso and spoke against the tanned skin beneath his belly button, “Your crinkly eyed smile is brighter than a mid-July sunrise, and your eyes are every single colour of the ocean,” he looked up at Louis as he kissed further and further down, until he reached the inside of his left thigh, and gently nipped at the skin. Louis was reduced to trembles. Couldn't _believe_ this is what he got to wake up to, “You're every shade of summer to me.”

Harry fully bit into the skin, pulling it back slightly, and soothing the sharp sting with tender lips. Louis hissed as the minimal scruff on Harry’s chin rubbed harshly against his thighs, but took pleasure in every second. He was so sure he could come like this. Completely untouched and overwhelmed in praise. But instead, he thread his fingers through Harry’s matted curls, and scratched softly against his scalp.

“That’s what kept your thoughts occupied this morning?” Louis breathlessly questioned.

Harry took his time bruising up the skin, only completely pulling off when he was satisfied, “Course not. Just came up with that now as I looked at you,” he crawled back up Louis’ body and smacked an obnoxious kiss to his cheek, “I was actually thinking about mutual shower blowies all morning. Why else would I be in such a hurry to wake you up?”

Unbelievable. Un- _fucking_ -believable. How was Harry even real? How did his brain even work?

“You're truly unlike anyone I've ever met before, and I'm still not sure if that's a good thing, or not.”

“Well, you haven't told me to leave yet, so I'll assume you like me until you do,” he smiled, brushed Louis’ hair aside, and pressed another lingering kiss there. Louis knew he would be a goner before long, “So how about those blowies, then?”

Harry was an actual nuisance but one Louis couldn't get enough of.

“You’ll have to carry me over. My thighs are on fire and walking wouldn't be too smart of a move right now.” Louis smiled devilishly and matched the teasing look in Harry’s eye.

It must have been exactly what he wanted to hear, seeing as Louis was immediately swept out of bed, and was speedily carried over to his en suite.

“Deal.”

 

\--

 

Louis’ heart fluttered in his chest as the windows of the flower shop rattled familiarly.

The last six hours dragged as expected. People filed through the door every so often for anniversaries or birthdays, and the remainder of the time was spent snipping away thorns, watering the hanging plants, and blushing as a result of texts from Harry.

Sweet words about Louis’ smile, genuine words about his love for Louis’ personality, and promises of stopping by before Louis closed up, had him anticipating their night together. Harry was just so–fun. Interesting. Louis couldn't believe just how much of a liking he took to him, and within such a short amount of time.

Louis absolutely beamed as Harry parked right up against the curb and clumsily shuffled through the door. He shook his wild curls free from the helmet and quickly shoved it in his bag. Huh. Guess he wasn't lying about staying overnight, again.

“Hello, sweetheart.” Harry greeted around a dimpled smile, making his way up to the counter, and leaning against it.

Louis’ face scrunched on its own accord. He wished he could help how soft pet names made him.

“Hey,” he leaned forward biting down a smile and opted to pucker them against Harry’s instead. He fucking loved the sound of their lips smacking together, “Mm, your lips are cold, get away from me.” Louis shooed him away from the counter and leaned back on his stool.

“I live for the day you'll stop pretending to hate my kisses.”

“Hope you don't mind living forever, then.” Louis shrugged his shoulder, and stood to walk around, and properly greet him.

Harry held out his hand, silently inviting Louis’ to join him. Louis stepped into his space, slotted their hands together, and went weak in the knees as Harry pressed a kiss against his knuckles. Such a bloody romantic, this one.

“How was your day?” he pulled Louis into his side, wrapping a secure arm around his shoulders, and bringing their faces in close, “Did you miss me like I missed you?”

“Most likely not, you absolute sap,” he snickered as Harry pinched at his side, “But it was good. Was counting down the hours ‘til you got here, though.”

“Yeah?” his eyes lit up and his dimples deepened, “Why’s that?”

“So I could give you a little something,” with a twinkle in his eye, Louis pulled Harry back until they were behind the counter, where he carefully sat him against the stool, “We have deliveries of these that come in every other Monday, so we usually give them all away on Saturdays, but I managed to hold onto a few for you.”

Louis reached beneath the counter, pulling out a dozen white roses, and handing them over. Harry’s was _elated_. Jaw slightly dropped and eyes lit up brighter than Louis has ever seen.

“For me?” Harry grabbed the thornless roses by their stems and immediately brought them up to his nose.

“Of course,” Louis shrugged, stepping between Harry’s legs and twirling a stray curl around his finger, “They'll be withered before long anyway. Won't be able to sell them, then.”

Harry bit down a laugh, shaking his head, and twisting the flowers between his fingers, “You know, you give me a lot of shit for being a sappy romantic, but you're just as bad as I am –probably worse– you just think you hide it better,” Harry set all but one rose down on the counter, and wrapped an arm around Louis’ waist.

“I hide it excellently.” Louis scoffed and thread his fingers through Harry's wind blown curls.

“‘Course you do, my angel,” Harry smirked as he pulled Louis in to kiss him sweetly. It was incredible just how breathless Harry rendered him with just a soft press of the lips and gentle pet names. Louis was completely under his spell and, for once, he didn't mind, “It’s a bit ironic though, innit?”

“Mm,” Louis took a second to regain his composure, “what is?”

“Your choice in flower,” Harry said as if it were obvious.

Louis was either kissed senseless, or truly had no idea what Harry was on about, “What's so ironic about it?”

Harry’s smile slowly slid into something more sensual, “The white rose symbolizing purity,”

He paused for a moment, likely waiting for it to sink in. Louis, however, was still not catching on, “And?”

Harry kept his eyes locked with Louis’ as he traced the expanse of Louis’ chest with the tip of the rose, “And, my thoughts are consumed by impurity,” he ventured further down, letting the flower drag against the zip of Louis’ jeans, “Can’t help but want to use these in the most improper way.”

Louis laughed timidly. Harry was unaware of his lack of knowledge in flower symbolism, but fate seemed to be on his side with this one, considering it had Harry teasing him in the most unimaginable ways.

“What do you mean, use them in the most _improper_ way? They're just roses, you put them in water, and forget about them.”

Harry bit his lip, setting the single flower down, and pressing his lips to Louis’ once more, “Let's get you home, yeah? Not sure I can properly illustrate it for you at your place of work.”

Louis’ spine shivered at the filthy quirk of Harry’s lips. If there was ever prime motivation to close up the shop on time, this was definitely it.

 

\--

 

Heated bodies crashed through the front door of Louis’ flat, lips smacking, and hands groping. Louis hardly had time to kick the door shut behind him before Harry pinned him against it. Rose petals fell to the ground as a result of Harry’s tight grip around the stems and Louis’ waist.

“Mmm,” Harry moaned against Louis’ mouth, filthily working his way down the columns of Louis’ neck, “Want you to do something for me, darling.”

Louis sighed in delight as Harry licked around the dip of his collarbone, “Yeah? What is it?”

Harry slipped a thigh between Louis’ legs and watched intensely as Louis practically withered with just one thrust, “Want you to wait for me in your room,” he thrust his hips once more and sloppily mouthed against Louis’ lips, “Want your pants around your ankles before I get in there, yeah? Get nice and comfortable on your back while I take care of some stuff. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

“Are you leaving?” Louis whined almost pathetically, “What could you possibly have to take care of at a time like this?”

“You,” Harry’s eyebrows creased in concern, “Only you, baby. I'm not going anywhere.”

Louis breathed a sigh of relief that he disguised as a frustrated huff, “Then what could you possibly be do–”

“Just go get ready, love. You'll see in a minute,” Harry kissed the pout off Louis’ lips and unpinned him from the door, “Trust me.”

His feet dragged past Harry as he rolled his eyes. A soft smack of roses against his arse pulled a quiet giggle from him, and encouraged him to skip the rest of the way down the hallway to his room. As soon as he was past the door, he shed an article of clothing per step, making his way toward the bed, and throwing his half naked body against it. He threw his duvet off the mattress in a haste and hooked his thumbs in his pants, pulling them down and flinging them across the room. Cool sheets caressed his skin as he tossed and turned trying to get as comfortable on his back as possible.

His hands practically itched to palm his aching cock. Harry didn't exactly say not to, but Louis wasn't sure if he'd appreciate walking in on that sight. Well, obviously he would, but Louis didn't want to push it.

His legs crossed in anticipation as his hands clenched around the sheets. He grew harder with every minute that passed, body slightly tensing at any sound that could possibly be Harry, and whining pathetically when it wasn't. He didn't know how much longer he could handle not being touched.

Ugh. Fuck it.

Louis let his eyes slip shut as he inevitably brought his right hand down between his legs–

“Hands above your head,” Harry’s soothing voice washed over Louis as he walked into the room with water and paracetamol, and a dozen roses held intact behind his back.

“No,” Louis grumbled, “My cock is aching, and you're not tending to me, so I'll go on and do it myself.”

Louis was only half a stroke in before his hands were firmly pressed into the pillows above his head, “Hold these for me, yeah? Don't let go of them either.”

Louis swallowed hard, but only offered a nod and a full body shudder as a response. He gripped the stems of the roses, silently thanking his past-self for snipping away the thorns earlier. Harry plucked one from his grip and set it down beside Louis’ hips. He was so poised. Calm eyes admiring every curve and edge of Louis’ body from the bedside. Fingers slowly unbuttoning every last button of his top, until the fabric gradually slipped from his broad shoulders, exposing the softly defined muscles of his abs, and the smattering of ink across his torso.

Louis couldn't help but squirm against the sheets and beg for Harry’s attention, “Get your bloody kit off, already! Could've come twice on my own, by now.”

“Shh,” Harry leaned over to press a silencing kiss to Louis’ lips, dangling curls tickling against his face, “Uncross your legs, please.”

“Will that motivate you to get on with it?” Louis asked stubbornly, keeping his legs tightly crossed over one another.

“It would, yes.” Harry answered coolly, not even bothering to spare Louis a second glance.

If it weren't for the thick outline of Harry’s cock protruding through his trousers, Louis might have been convinced Harry wasn't turned on at all, would think he was merely just going through the motions, and that only made Louis vie for his attention _more_.

“ _You_ uncross them if that's what you want,” Louis hissed.

Harry looked up from pulling off his trousers leg by leg. God, he was so hard to read. His face remained impassive, but the clench of his jaw must have meant Louis said something right. Harry neatly folded his clothing, tossing everything, including his shoes, to the side. Only one layer of fabric remaining, and Louis was nearly in tears with just how slowly Harry was pulling them down around his ankles.

“Just get on with it already, for fucks sa–”

Harry crawled on top of the bed and immediately spread Louis’ legs. Hands gripping into the meat of his thighs with an invigorating energy coursing between them.

“I'll get on with it when you cooperate with me.” he gruffly spoke into Louis’ ear.

“I'll cooperate when you fucking do something.”

Louis wiggled his legs in Harry’s hold, and desperately tried to pull him in by crossing them behind Harry’s back. Heels digging deeply into the bottom of his spine. Useless.

“Drop this whole stubborn act and I will,” Harry kissed slowly along the lines of Louis’ neck, “I know how docile you can be, darling. I'll wait all bloody night until you get there.”

Fuck his lips felt nice. Soothing the heated skin of his collar bones and blowing cool air against them.

“I'm–I’m only docile when you've gotten me off,” he completely undersold the statement by moaning through each word, “which you seem to be incapable of.”

“Mmm, we both know that's not true,” Harry sat up and grabbed the single rose placed next to them, “Maybe this will help speed up the process,” Louis watched as he pressed his lips against the petals and silently instructed Louis to do the same. He looked up at Harry through hazy eyes but puckered his lips anyway. He kissed the folds of the petals, letting Harry drag the flower across his lips tortuously, before turning the flower sideways, and pushing the stem between the seam of his mouth, “Bite.”

Louis hesitated, but gently took the stem between his teeth, and let his mouth close around it. Harry look absolutely pleased.

“Only want to hear whimpers coming out of you from this moment on,” his words were coated in authority but the sweet look of caution in his eyes let Louis know he was safe, “Is this okay?” he whispered lowly, stroking a careful hand across Louis’ cheek.

A clear shift in his mood had Louis eagerly nodding his head and remaining completely wordless for Harry.

“Just take it out if it gets too overwhelming, sweetheart.”

Louis nodded once more and braced his body for whatever was about to come. Harry leaned forward, brushing the tip of his cock over Louis’ unintentionally, as he plucked another rose from the bouquet bounding his arms above him.

Harry sat up straight, pinching a petal between his fingers, and ripping it from the stem, “He loves me,” he let the petal fall against Louis’ heated skin as he ripped another from the stem, “He loves me _not_ ,” Louis’ eyes welled with anticipation as each silky petal decorated the expanse of his glowing body. Fuck, this was going to take _forever_ , and he knew that Harry was well aware of the fact too, “He loves me, he loves me _not_ , he loves me, he loves me _not_ ,”

Harry’s husky voice repeated the phrase with ease. Purposely taking his time to add to the suspense. Louis did his best to breathe evenly through it all, and he did for all but a moment, before Harry moved to make sure Louis was properly teased.

“He loves me,” he pressed his lips against the bruising skin of his neck, “He loves me _not_ ,” he mouthed his way down Louis’ collarbones, continuing to sprinkle his body with petals, and pressing the words of the phrase into his skin, “He loves me,” Harry sucked tenderly around Louis’ left, dusty pink, nipple, “He loves me _not_ ,” he bit down against the right, exemplifying the contrast in the results of the phrases.

Louis’ eyes clenched as he withered into the sheets. Grip tightening against the bouquet and sounds of pleasure humming through his chest. He was nearly gone for. Arching his back as Harry kissed down to his tummy.

Harry looked up from between Louis’ legs, checking to see if his reaction was pleased or not. When the twinkle in Louis’ eyes caught his own, he smiled playfully and nosedived into the flesh of his thighs.

Day old love bites faded against his skin, littering Louis in pale shades of violet. Harry nibbled at the sensitive parts, sucking maddeningly, and deepening the colour to his liking. The heat, behind Harry’s teeth marks, was distracting, and cause for the continuous stream of precome bubbling from Louis’ cock. He was so taken by the pleasure of pain, he nearly let the three remaining petals go unnoticed.

“He loves me,” Harry obscenely licked between the crease of Louis’ thigh, “He loves me _not_ ,” he bit down, sending Louis into a world of stinging pain, tears building behind his shut eyes, and whimpers freely falling. Harry quickly soothed the area with gentle kisses and softly running the last petal against the sore area.

“He loves me.” Harry whispered into the dip of his legs through a dazzling smile. Ripping the last petal from the bud and tossing the stem across the room.

Louis opened his eyes slowly. Lashes clumping together from the moisture, and Harry’s face gradually coming into focus. Dimples etched their way into his glistening cheeks and his frizzy curls softened to long tousled waves. He was beautiful. And Louis would be equally as speechless had he not been slightly gagged by a rose.

“You're doing amazing, baby, best boy in the whole world,” Harry kissed between his brows and gently caressed Louis’ cheek, “Think you can hang on for just a bit longer? I've been dying to lick you out, but don't want you to come just yet.”

He carefully pried the rose from Louis’ lips and used his free hand to massage Louis’ semi aching jaw.

“I can last, yeah,” Louis gravelly confirmed through his lax lips, “You can get on with it any day now. I won't mind.”

Harry laughed deeply within his chest and kissed Louis’ lips back to life.

“Lou,” he paused for a moment, resting their foreheads together, and breathing heavily in the limited space, “This is going to sound mad, and I hope you don't throw me out for it, but,” he shook his head against Louis’ and pulled back with his eyes closed, seemingly struggling with something internally. Louis’ brows creased in concern, but before he could say anything, Harry’s eyes were gazing heatedly into his own, “I’m just so gone for you, Louis. I want you - every single complex version of you - I genuinely can't stay away from you.”

Louis’ heart raced as Harry sealed his declaration with a filthy kiss. Tongues messily slipping from each other's mouths and cocks sliding desperately together.

“Mmm–” Louis pulled back from Harry’s lips, “Lucky for you, I don't want you to stay away.”

Harry moaned at his words and effortlessly rolled Louis onto his stomach.

Hot lips pressed a messy pattern from the tip of his spine to the bottom of his back dimples. Louis curled his shaking arms around a pillow and opened his legs enough to let Harry lay between them. Whimpers fell from his mouth as soft petals caressed across his bum, so smooth to the touch, and so maddeningly tempting. Harry palmed Louis’ arse and spread his cheeks apart with his left hand. The white rose teased along his crack and twirled deliciously against his opening. Louis shuddered uncontrollably as Harry suddenly whipped it against his hole.

A delicate flower, that symbolized such purity, now held a _drastically_ different meaning for the both of them. An outrageously obscene one.

Louis threw a look over his shoulder just as Harry took each cheek in hand, and grazed his tongue against his blushing hole. Louis squeaked out a moan and arched his back further into Harry’s face. It was nothing like the way Harry kissed. Each lick was precise and deliberate, and not one bit of saliva was gone to waste. Louis was slick and relaxed in all the right places. He had no fucking idea having his arse eaten out could feel _this_ incredible.

Harry took Louis’ cries of pleasure as initiative to spread his cheeks further, and prod his wet fingertip through his entrance. A single tear streamed from the corner of Louis’ eye as his soft sobs rattled the walls of his flat. Harry growled at the sound and buried his face deeper.

“Lube?” Harry asked around a mouthful of Louis.

“Bedside table,” Louis cried out as Harry pushed his finger all the way in, “Don't bring it out unless you're going to fuck me.”

“Trust me, sweetheart,” Harry leaned over to the bedside table and hastily rummaged through it until the lube was in his possession, “I intend to.”

_Fucking hell._

Ice cool liquid was drizzled directly against his hole, causing him to clench tightly around Harry’s index finger, and let out a shocked cadence of curses. Harry took his time relaxing him again. Kissing and licking the skin and whispering soft praises along Louis’ cheeks. Eventually, he was two knuckles deep in Louis’ arse and was punching out moans with each press against his prostate.

“You feel amazing, can't wait to fill you with my cock,” Harry mouthed against Louis shoulder as he scissored his fingers in and out and teased a third one along his rim, “Love how loud you are. Let me hear you, baby.”

Louis chanted Harry’s name desperately as he thrust back on his fingers. His skin prickled as a third finger pushed through his entrance and a sharp crack of a rose stem slapped against his arse. Harry caressed the sting with the velvety petals of the flower, and let the skin raise pleasantly, before smacking it down again.

“ _Fuck_ –Harry,” Louis cried and pushed his arse further back.

“S’it too much, darling?” Harry questioned, caution clear in his words.

“No–god–I need more, _please_!”

“Tell me what you need.” he cracked the stem across Louis’ cheeks just as three of his fingers brushed against his prostate.

Louis couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe. Was mildly stunned by the amount of pleasure, “Fuck me,” Louis whispered airily.

“Louder.” he whipped Louis’ bum once more.

“Fuck me, Harry!”

It must have been loud enough seeing as Harry carefully removed his fingers and scrambled to his overnight bag for a condom. Louis rolled over onto his backside, again. White rose petals stuck to his dewy skin and littered across the expanse of his bed. _Fuck_. This was quite literally a scene pulled straight from a classic film.

Harry stumbled back into the bed, condom rolled on properly, and free hand squeezing lube onto his member. Louis let his legs fall open against the sheets as Harry propped himself above him.

“Ready for me, baby?” the head of his cock teased against Louis’ rim.

“Give it to me rough.”

Harry eased his way in, remaining unmoving long enough for Louis to adjust, and beg for more. He thrust at a steady pace. Headboard knocking against the wall and Louis’ nails digging harsh red lines into Harry’s back. Moans, groans, and skin against skin reverberated through the sex heavy air. Harry was so _good_. Nailing Louis’ prostate with every push of his hips and biting down hard on his bottom lip.

Panting, crying, and begging spurred Harry on to roughly drive his pace to a maddening speed. Louis wasn't going to last. He was so incredibly turned on and the soft curses from Harry's lips were pushing him over the edge.

“H-Harry, gonna come, please, make me come.”

Harry swiftly reached between them, engulfing Louis sensitive cock in his hand, and pumping him with the same momentum of his hips. Louis could feel it building. He clenched tight around Harry’s member and tensed harshly–

“Come for me, angel.”

Colorful lights danced behind Louis’ eyes as his orgasm completely overwhelmed him. Come landed up against his chest and splattered across the rose petals that still stuck to his and Harry’s body. Incoherently, he whimpered Harry’s name over and over again until his body went lax. He felt Harry’s lips press firmly against his own as he stilled inside of him.

Their heavy breathing mingled together as Harry carefully slipped out of him, and clumsily stepped out of bed. Rose petals that stuck to his luminous skin were gently picked off, and gracefully dropped to the floor. It was such a lovely sight. One Louis would never forget.

“Please, stay.” Louis voice cracked with emotion.

“I'm just going to clean us up, yeah?” Harry was a bit fuzzy around the edges. Tears blurring the focus of Louis’ vision, “I brought an overnight bag, remember? I'm not going anywhere.”

Louis nodded silently and watched as Harry tiptoed over to his en suite. He fucking missed his touch already. When did Louis become so bloody needy?

Harry returned with a damp towel and a smile on his face, “You look gorgeous all fucked out.” he stepped over toward Louis and brought the damp towel against his come stained skin. He carefully picked away every last petal from Louis’ body and tossed them onto the floor. He’d clean them later anyways, “Take your painkillers, baby. You'll want to sleep this one off for a while.”

With Harry’s assistance, Louis sat up slowly, grabbing the glass of water he brought to him earlier, and downed the paracetamol in one go. A thick duvet was thrown on top of him and Harry crawled in shortly after. Louis lowered himself back down on the bed and was tenderly pulled into Harry’s chest.

Harry was an after-sex-cuddler. _Good_.

Sweet lips pressed against Louis’ clammy forehead as gentle hands rubbed up and down his sides. He could stay right here forever if he was asked to. Wouldn't even hesitate to burrow further into Harry’s arms. He was so relaxed. So satiated. Warm. Safe.

Louis was happy and quite honestly sleepy.

His breathing was nearly even when he heard the quiet whisper of Harry's voice.

“So lucky to have fallen for you.”

 

\--

 


	11. Chapter 11

Monday’s lectures did little to maintain Louis’ attention. Head too caught in the clouds of his and Harry’s mini-holiday.

Sunday had been over for hours, but Louis couldn't help but let his mind replay the picturesque ending of their weekend together. Waking up to Harry before the sunrise, slowly riding him under the duvet out on his balcony, watching the sky turn from an ebony twilight to a brilliant vision of sunshine. Louis remembers being entranced by the view. The sun didn't shine in New Cross. Especially not this close to winter.

Harry lazed about as Louis crammed a weekend’s worth of revising into a few hours, and answered every last question Harry had about Social, Therapeutic, and Community Studies. Louis unintentionally had him convinced he was some sort of angel. Harry praised him endlessly, and eventually cut Louis’ work time short. He didn't mind, though. Harry’s embrace was his favorite place to be.

Louis’ thoughts were so tangled up in Harry, he almost didn't notice his peers dismissing themselves from the lecture. He shook his brain from his daydreams as he gathered his materials, and stuffed them in his bag. His shift at the flower shop started in about an hour, which gave him more than enough time to get there on foot.

The sun had been clouded over by now, washing the halls of Goldsmiths in gloom and dread, making the idea of curling up into bed nearly irresistible. Louis trudged on down the stairs anyway, dragging his feet behind him as he made his way toward the exit, and pushed through the doors of the building. Christ, the humidity was suffocating–

“Hello, my love!” strong arms wrapped around his slim waist from behind and warm lips pressed firmly against his temple.

“Harry?” Louis stumbled as he turned in his arms. God, the leather jacket and heeled boot combination would never get old, “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you, baby.” he dipped down to kiss the confusion from Louis’ lips.

A smile crept up on Louis’ face as their mouths remained attached. Since the moment Harry left his flat on Sunday, he missed him. Was already mentally planning on how to see Harry again without being too pushy.

Looks like he wouldn't have to now.

“How did you know where to find me?” he slid his hands from around Harry's neck and naturally linked them with Harry's own.

“Well, I stopped by the flower shop first, thinking you might've been working,” Shit. That meant he must've ran into Perrie, “But when I asked the girl at the counter, she said you wouldn't be in ‘til the afternoon.”

Louis swallowed audibly but didn't dare let his smile falter. Perrie couldn't have been too bad, right? She wouldn't just flat out be rude to him because of how she felt.

“And she told you I'd be here?” Louis questioned as he swung their arms slightly.

“She was very reluctant at first, but I guess I understand why. Big, bad, biker demanding to know where sweet, little, Louis was,” Louis rolled his eyes exaggeratedly and bit down on a fit of laughter, “I wouldn't want to share that information either.”

“So how’d you get it out of her, then?”

“I said please about a hundred times before I told her I just wanted to surprise you,” he dropped Louis’ hand to reach behind himself into his back pocket, “She made me buy you these first, though.”

Half a dozen yellow carnations were handed over to Louis carefully. He took them by the stems with an awed grin and leaned down to inhale their sweet scent.

“I hope you don't take the flower meaning to heart, love. I just wanted to see you and that was the only way she'd tell me where to meet you.”

Louis quirked a confused brow, “What's the meaning behind these?”

“Disdain or disappointment.”

_Fuck._

A violent wave of worry and unease flooded through Louis’ system. Her choice in flowers was no coincidence. Perrie’s message to him was loud and clear. He just hoped Harry hadn't caught on to it.

“I appreciate the effort either way,” he shrugged hoping to convey nonchalance, “Don't fret, love.” he pushed up on his toes and kissed Harry’s unsuspecting lips.

His eyes were warm. Could tell in the twinkling shade of green just how easily endeared he was by Louis’ presence. The blush of Louis’ cheeks was evidence enough that the feeling was reciprocated.

“So where are you off to now? I'm not cutting into your lectures am I?” Harry asked, worry in his tone.

“No, not at all. I was just going to walk to work.”

“Mind if I join?”

Louis tiptoed to peek over Harry’s shoulder, “Where's your bike? Are you leaving it here?”

“It's actually a bit too chilly to ride today. I took the tube from Peckham, then rode the bus toward the flower shop, and pretty much ran from there, to here.”

Louis shook his head and huffed out a laugh, “All of that just to see me? _And_ you managed to bring me flowers?”

Harry pinched his lip between his teeth and slightly winced, “Is that too much? Should I back off a little?”

Louis’ face scrunched in adoration. Harry clearly cared about Louis’ feelings, not wanting to overstep boundaries, or make him uncomfortable.

How did he get so lucky?

“A little over the top, but nothing I wouldn't expect from a sap like you.” he leaned in, puckering his lips for a kiss, and dissolving into giggles as Harry pinched at his sides instead.

“I'll walk you to work and let you have a few hours to yourself, then,” he pressed his petal soft lips against Louis’ and led them in the direction of the shop by their laced hands, “Shall we?”

 

\--

 

It was mesmerizing to watch Harry speak in detail about his favourite films. Eyes shimmering as he recited his favorite lines, hands gesturing animatedly, and words pouring so eloquently from his overly enthused mouth. It was cinematic in itself. Louis just wished he wouldn't have waited so long to ask him about this.

Harry’s lips moved ceaselessly. Louis’ eyes hardly strayed as he unintentionally tuned out his surroundings, and clung to Harry’s arm for guidance.

“Lou?” Harry’s adorable laughter cut through his trance, “Were you even listening to me?”

“‘Course I was.” Louis lied through his teeth as he tore his eyes away from Harry’s lips, and flickered his eyes upward.

“So I'll take that as a yes, then?”

“Yes, yes, absolutely,” Louis peered up innocently through his lashes, “What exactly did I just agree to, again?”

Harry huffed out a harmless sigh and kissed Louis between his neatly trimmed brows, “You agreed to meet at mine later so we could watch those films. I can give you a lift to Goldsmiths in the morning if you’d like to stay the night?”

“Sounds lovely, actually,” Louis smirked seductively, “Don’t think we’ll get much viewing pleasure out of the films, though. I can’t sit still for too long, and I’m sure there’s better things for you to watch.”

Harry raised a challenging brow, “You think you’ll be able to pull a film major away from his favourite films?”

“With ease.”

Louis giggled into Harry’s neck as his sides were viciously squeezed by gentle hands. Harry liked to act like he was annoyed, but Louis could tell he was easily smitten by his confidence.

“It's frustrating because you're right,” he wrapped his arms around Louis’ shoulders and pulled him tightly into his chest, “I’ll see you later then, sweetheart. Have a good shift.”

Oh, shit.

Louis didn't even realize they were stood outside the flower shop, looking intimate as ever. Perrie was likely shooting daggers into the back of their skulls by now.

“Y-yeah, yeah,” he pat Harry’s back twice and moved out of his embrace, “I'll see you.”

He plastered a half convincing smile onto his face and accompanied it with a small wave. Harry didn't seem to notice anything out of the norm. He pinched Louis’ cheek with a wink and stepped off into the direction of the bus stop. _Fuck_. Louis deeply inhaled as he braced himself for the inevitable arse kicking behind the flower shop's door.

He turned on his heel and pushed through the entrance slowly, immediately meeting the piercing shade of Perrie's blue eyes. Fuck. He was going to have to face this sooner or later.

“Hiya, love,” he grinned uneasily as he walked down the rows of arrangements, until he reached the front of the counter, “How was your weekend?”

“Good,” she shrugged and hardly looked up from her cuticles, “Not as good as yours apparently,” Louis’ stomach dropped to his knees. Guess they were getting right to it then, “How’s the boyfriend? I see he found you alright.”

“Boyfriend?” Louis questioned mildly confused.

“Oi, is this news to you? I was a bit taken aback, as well.”

Louis sighed frustratedly and dropped the bag loosely hanging from his shoulders, “What are you on about, Perrie? You know I don't have a boyfriend.”

“Harry seems to think otherwise,” she fanned her fingers out in front of her, checking the unchipped varnish of her nails, “Said he wanted to surprise his _boyfriend_ after class or summat.”

“Well, we aren't together,” Louis winced at the words, “he probably just said that so you'd tell him where I was.”

“I can't be bothered, Lou.” she rolled her eyes irritatedly and ran a frustrated hand through her silky blond locks.

“Apparently you can, Pez. I got your yellow carnations, yeah? What was that about? Why does the idea of Harry and I _disappoint_ you so much?”

“It doesn't! You can do whatever you bloody well please! It's just a bit strange that you hated him less than a week ago–and what–now he’s dropping you off at work hand-in-hand? Giving you goodbye kisses?”

“Alright? I still don't see what the big deal is–”

“Has he _ever_ mentioned why he abandoned you the first night you met?” she snapped, cutting off anything Louis thought he had to say, “Has he _ever_ even apologized for that, Lou?”

Louis remained silent and unmoving. Reeling over all his time spent with Harry.

“I was there at your flat when you were bloody heartbroken over it. I was there when he said he’d explain himself to you but never did,” Louis swallowed thickly. Emotion quickly rising in his throat, “I don’t mean to meddle or upset you, love, I just want what's best for you, yeah? Isn't that the very least he could do?”

Her words nearly knocked Louis off his feet. A whole weekend spent together, learning little facts about each other, feeling out their bodies for the first time, and waking up together, yet still no explanation from Harry. Wasn't that the whole point of him taking Louis out in the first place?

Louis was beyond baffled. How did he go the entire weekend letting that slip his mind? Did Harry just bullshit his way into Louis’ pants with no intentions of an apology? He felt fucking nauseous.

“M’sorry, Lou. It's just a bit hard to be unbiased. I know how easily trusting you are, and I just don't want you to have to suffer because of someone—”

“No, no, I get it,” he dug the heels of his hands into his burning eyes, “I just felt something different this weekend, you know? He was such a gentlemen and everything felt so domestic–I. I thought we could be the real thing, but–god–there is no explanation is there? He would have told me by now, right? I feel so bloody used.”

“Oh, Lou, don't get too ahead of yourself,” she stood to walk around the counter and immediately cuddled Louis into her arms, “Just be upfront about it, yeah? Don't let him see you again unless he has an explanation ready for you. A _good one_ , at that.”

Fuck. He was supposed to see Harry tonight. Louis didn't know what he was going to do. Was it even worth another shot? Harry hasn't brought up the topic in months. It would only serve to be painful for the both of them.

Louis pulled back from Perrie's embrace and moved to reach for his gardening apron, “I've got a ton of work to do and you're going to be late for your lectures again.”

He quickly busied himself with shakily tying the material around his waist and walking towards the back to check on the shipments. Just needed something, anything, to distract his mind for the time being.

He made it nearly half-way before his arm was gently tugged back, “Lou, we’re good, yeah? You still love me to pieces even though I stick my nose into your business?”

Her eyes were pleading and sincere. Maybe even a little guilty. Louis knew she had no reason to feel this way. She was right about everything she said.

He wrapped her in a headlock and squeezed, “The nosy bit is slightly annoying, but I don't love you any less,” she smiled genuinely and seemed to be pleased with his answer, “I know your intentions are well.”

He released her from his hold and playfully ruffled a hand in her hair, “Alright, then, I guess I'm off. Please don't hesitate to ring me if you need to.”

Louis nodded his head graciously and went to move toward the back once more–

“And, Lou,” she called out from behind him, waiting patiently for Louis to turn and acknowledge her, “I really hope it works out in your favour. I saw your smile through the window, and I definitely saw his, long before he even knew where you were.”

Louis pressed his lips into a thin line, turning back on his heel, and swallowing down his emotions once more, “Thanks, Pez. I really hope it does, too.”

 

\--

 

The wintry breeze stung against Louis’ cheeks as toxic swirls of smoke filtered in through his lungs. It was eerily quiet this side of Peckham and definitely not the peaceful kind. The type of silence that only further added to Louis’ edge, causing him to burn through cigarettes at a rapid pace. He had a bad feeling about this. Nearly identical to the feeling he got when Harry left him stranded.

This wouldn't end well. Louis could already feel it in his bones.

He was stood just around the corner from Harry’s flat, delaying the inevitable _I’m here_ text he was meant to send fifteen minutes ago. He was stalling. There was nothing Louis hated more than confrontation, but this was something unavoidable.

With one last scorching drag, Louis stubbed out what was left of his cigarette, and pressed a jittery thumb against his send button. This was it. He did his best not to let the scenarios in his mind run rampant. Tuning out the voice in his head that begged him to turn around and put this off for another day. He stepped forward and turned around the corner towards Harry’s building.

Shit. Harry was already sat by the steps of his flat, likely awaiting Louis’ arrival. He looked softer than usual. Hair loosely tied back, thick grey jumper rolled just above his wrists, and woolly slippers covering his socked feet. Louis couldn’t handle the sight. All he wanted to do was cuddle up in his warm embrace.

“Harry!” Louis called out weakly from down the street.

Harry turned his head in Louis’ direction and was immediately reduced to affection. Warmth radiated from his stare, alone. _Fuck_. This was going to be extremely difficult. Such a sweet face didn’t deserve to be seen any other way.

They quickly met each other halfway, cold winds nipping harshly at their heels, “Hey, sweetheart.” Harry leaned down, pressing his velvety lips against Louis’ own. He tasted like peaches, a flavor Louis was undeniably drawn to, “Mmm, may I have another?” Harry sealed their lips once more, and again, and again, displaying no urgency of getting indoors.

Louis let it continue for a moment. Wasn’t too keen on heading inside himself. But the tips of his ears were numb, and the air was too crisp for his delicate lungs. He at least needed to get away from the breeze.

“Harry–” his words were cut off by greedy lips once more, “Harry–inside–please.”

Breathlessly, Harry pulled his kiss-bitten lips away, and laced his hand with Louis’ own, “Sorry. Just love how your lips feel against mine.” his way with words was maddening. He easily had Louis’ cheeks set a flame, “D’you remember Zayn? My best mate that you grinded up on to spite me?”

Harry smirked down at him as Louis shook his head in embarrassment, “Yes, I do, unfortunately,” they carefully climbed up Harry’s front steps and pushed through the door, “Why are we talking about him?”

“Well he lives here too, but I kicked him out for the evening so we could be alone together.” he winked as he led Louis further into the sitting area of his flat. Shit. Louis forgot Harry invited him to stay over, as well, “Just don’t be startled if you hear someone else in the flat tomorrow morning.”

Louis responded with a nod, instantly curling in on himself as he took in the unfamiliar setting. It was nice. Very clean. Warm and cozy. Adorned by lit candles and fresh jasmine hanging from the ceiling. Louis could clearly tell Harry spent the day tidying up for him, and it made his fucking skin crawl.

“Make yourself comfortable, baby,” Harry whispered in his ear and kissed the side of his temple. Louis wished he could, wished he could settle down and lounge comfortably against his sofa, but apprehensiveness was gnawing away at his contentment, “Can I get you anything? Something to drink? A blanket? I can order us take away if you’re hungry, or I can whip something up for you, I don't mind.”

Every last bit sounded nice. Things he would normally accept from someone trying to woo him. But ever since the thought of him being used entered his brain, he couldn’t help but feel like this was all a well practiced routine.

Louis felt dizzy. Heart pounding against the walls of his chest. Stomach churning and shallow breaths exhaling from his lips rapidly. He was so genuinely nervous. Could feel the accusatory words rising to his throat before he was ready to face them. He knew he wanted the truth and knew he deserved it. He just wish he could put it off one last time.

“Y’alright, love?” Harry asked worriedly, reaching out a hand to console him.

Louis dodged it with his own, wincing at Harry’s look of confusion, “I actually want to talk to you about something.”

Harry’s warm demeanor shifted into something a bit more tense, “Y-yeah, sure. Should we sit?”

Louis shook his head _no_ and scrubbed a distressed hand down his face. Well, here goes nothing. Or everything.

“Why did you leave me?” Louis’ voice unintentionally cracked. Nerves getting the best of him.

Harry’s brows dipped into a deep crease, “Leave you? What do you mean? I haven’t gone anywhere—”

“The first night we met,” Louis spoke with a firm tone, backbone straightening with each word, “Why did you let me sit out on the pavement, alone, with nowhere to go? You knew I wasn’t from the area, you knew I came with no one, and you _still_ kept me waiting for hours. The bloody sun was nearly up by the time I got home. What, in your mind, made that okay for you to do?”

“Lou–”

“And why have you been dangling an explanation in my face for months, huh? That was nearly four months ago, and you said you’d explain yourself multiple times–and yet? Still nothing out of you.” Louis’ voice raised with agitation and Harry was seemingly stunned into silence, “Are you lying? Is the false promise of your reason, some way of getting what you wanted from me the first night, and fucking off afterwards?”

“You know that’s not what I’m doing—”

“Are you sure? We’re nearly three fucks in and you’ve not mentioned a word of it—”

“If I wanted to fuck you and fuck off I would have done it by now,” his voice rumbled angrily from his chest, shaking Louis to the core, “Why would I keep coming around if I didn’t have intentions with you?”

“Oh, I have no doubt you have intentions with me. That doesn’t make them pure, however.”

“Are you joking? I begged you, week after week, to give me another chance. You were dismissive and stubborn. You denied and denied, and pushed me away more times than I can count,” he stepped closer, leaving enough space to not corner Louis into the wall, “You think I would work that hard just for a fuck?”

Louis crossed his arms as he looked away from Harry’s intense gaze, biting his lip until it bled, and shrugging his shoulders in a feeble manner. He hated arguing. And he hated that he felt like this was being turned around on him.

“I fucking care about you, Louis. I haven’t put this much effort into anything in my life. Not even film or fixing up my piece of shit bike. It’s so bloody insulting that you think my intentions with you are anything other than pure.”

Louis rolled his eyes and threw his hands into the air, “Then just bloody tell me why you did it and be done with it!”

Harry visibly tensed as Louis’ words rang through the walls of his tiny flat. Harry was silent. Fingers fiddling with the skin of his thumbs and teeth biting against the inside of his lips. He was nervous. Visibly so.

“Well?” Louis requested impatiently, “Do you have an answer for me?”

“Of course I do–”

“Then just tell me already!”

“I can’t,” Harry sighed and pressed his palms deeply into his eyes, “I can’t do it.”

“Do what?” Louis questioned weakly. He was beyond exhausted.

“I can’t tell you why without scaring you away.” he rubbed his hands down his face as his pleading eyes met Louis’. Rimmed red and brimming with frustrated tears, Louis wished he could take back every part of this, and live blissfully in his state of ignorance. Anything to keep this image as far away from him, as possible.

“Just tell me, Harry,” he quietly begged, “All I ask of you is, why?”

Harry inhaled deeply, crossing his arms over his chest, and swiping a thumb against his bottom lashes. He didn’t speak. Silence stretched on for minutes, possibly hours. Both of them gazing into each other’s eyes painfully, and waiting for one another to make the first move. Louis let the silence simmer for a moment longer, raising his brow to indicate his final plea. As soon as Harry shrugged his shoulders in defeat, Louis knew he had to get out of there.

In a haste, Louis sidestepped Harry. Shouldering past the hands that reached out for him and throwing himself through Harry’s front door. A mantra of _Louis_ and _please_ were tuned out, as he shuffled down the stairs, and headed toward the tube station. It was late and not exactly ideal to be walking around alone in his vulnerable state, but Louis could no longer be in a space where he wasn’t afforded the truth.

“Louis, wait,” Harry caught up and gripped him by the arm, “Please–just–come back inside, baby. You shouldn’t be out alone this late—”

“Oi, so me being alone in the middle of the night matters to you now? Did you have a sudden change of heart? Cos it didn’t matter all that much a few months ago.”

“Louis–christ–will you stop it? It did matter to me then! I felt horrible that night. God, I _still_ feel horrible. Every time I look at you I’m reminded of my mistake, and I do everything I can to try and make up for it. It’s not like I wanted to leave you out there–”

“Then why did you?” Louis jerked his arm back as his hollering echoed between alleyways and the crisp air of the night.

Not a sound went off around them. Not a single car alarm, not a single siren wailing it’s way through the city’s streets, not even a single word from Harry’s mouth. Seemingly picked up right where they left off, not even a moment ago. Lip bitten between his teeth, eyes welling with frustration, and an internal struggle painted clearly on his face. There was obviously something restraining him from what he wanted to say. Something Louis had no idea of or why it shackled Harry to his state of dishonesty.

“You know, I was really hurt that night,” Louis sighed shakily, trying to keep his voice steady, and face void of his emotional turmoil, “I hadn’t been with anyone in well over a year, and I was finally ready to put myself out there, and live a little. Stop holeing myself up at my flat, waiting for someone to just fall into my life. Then here you come, out of nowhere, practically a knight in shining armor, saving my sorry arse from some pissed sod,” Louis laughed humorlessly, crossing his arms over himself to warm his body from the chill, “You were so sweet, Harry, and so incredibly alluring, it was like an instant connection with you. It still is. Something I can honestly say I’ve never felt for anyone else before,” Louis paused to brace himself for the harsh delivery of his next words, “And then you left.”

He looked up at Harry from his quickly dampening lashes and saw that Harry wasn’t in much better shape. He looked poorly. Guilt etching its way _deep_ into his features.

“Lou—”

“I’m not finished.” Louis snipped as gently as possible. It was still too entirely hard to be stern with him, but he needed this, “I was embarrassed, and really uncomfortable in my own skin for so long afterward, and I hated you for it. But even after all of that–even after I moved on and tore down my walls for you–the _one_ thing that hurts the most, is your lack of apology,” Louis shook his head as he bit down on his lip, forcing himself to not let his angry tears roll, “Not once have you said you’re sorry.”

Harry swallowed audibly. Face like a fawn caught in the headlights. He looked so ashamed.

“Louis. I’m–I’m s–”

“It’s too late for that, love.” Louis shrugged as he curled further into himself, cold winds doing nothing to help the burning of his eyes.

It hurt. His body fucking ached with sorrow. It was slightly amazing just how quickly his world was tipped on its side, and just how easily it could have been avoided. Now he’s stood on the corner of the pavement, spilling his guts for all of London to see.

He didn’t want to be here anymore.

As Harry stood slumped and quiet, Louis made a turn on his heel to be on his way—

“Wait,” Harry caught him by the pinky, slowly and ever so gently linking them together, “I want to tell you why, believe me, I do, and I’ll apologize every day, for the rest of my life, if you gave me that opportunity, but,” he squeezed their pinkies together, turning his head to the side to scrub a nervous hand down his face. Louis stood patient, but he wouldn’t be able to do this all night, “I just need time.”

“I already gave you that, and so much more, Harry.”

“I know, baby. I just–please,” Harry looked down at him through pleading eyes, “Stay with me for tonight.”

It was tempting. Louis could walk right back through the door of Harry’s flat, have his body split open, have his heart filled with nothing but empty promises, and have all of this go away for one evening. Just be with Harry one last time, and hope that he would come through with an expression of his regret, and a reason for why he left him.

But that was something neither of them deserved, and Louis was exhausted.

He gently unlinked their nearly numb pinkies, silently shaking his head no, and finally moving to walk away. Harry didn’t chase after him this time. The finality was unspoken yet understood.

Louis carried on down the street, squeezing his eyes shut, and letting the tears roll freely. This was going to sting for a while. Sleep would be lost and the look of hurt on Harry’s face would be burned into his brain for months to come. Worst of all, this was their first time leaving each other without a kiss. Lips left cold.

 _God_.

He wasn’t in the mood to think about this anymore. He picked up his speed and began to jog his way to the nearest bus stop. Just wanting to be home, in his bed, where Harry’s scent still lingered.

It was all he had left of him anyway.

 

\--

 


	12. Chapter 12

_**Tuesday** _

 

Louis trembled severely as the frigid morning air seeped in through his flat, and under his duvet. He chain smoked last night. Attempting to burn off the hurt by staining his lungs, fingers, and clothing with menthol. Must’ve left his balcony door slid open when he opted to stumble into bed. He shouldn't have done it. He was nauseous, his throat was scorched raw, and now he was bloody freezing. And _still_ heartbroken.

He sat up slowly in his unkempt bed, rubbing a hand over his swollen eyes, and running it back through his tangled hair. Sheets pooled around his bare waist as goosebumps covered his shivering body. He felt like shit and he was sure it showed.

The hour must have been early, seeing as the sun had yet to come up. Not that it would anyway. Louis pushed himself out of bed, wincing at the dull pain at the temples of his head, and dragging his feet the few steps it took to slide the door shut. He pressed his throbbing head against the cool glass and sighed at how poorly he felt.

Maybe a shower would help. Some painkillers and a gallon of water, as well.

He sluggishly walked back over to his bedside table, grabbing his half dead mobile, and checking the time. 7:24 am. He purposely avoided looking down at the missed calls and texts from Harry. That was one thing he definitely couldn't handle right now.

There was plenty of time before he needed to get ready for his shift, and come back home to miss his lectures. It wasn't normal for him to miss uni, but his mind would be elsewhere, anyway.

For now, however, he just needed sleep.

 

\--

 

A thunderous rumble pulled Louis from his fitful slumber. Body still aching from the loads of flowers he restocked and eyes still puffed over from emotion. He scrambled out of bed, heart racing, and soreness in his joints long forgotten.

There was only ever one motorbike riding around this neighbourhood, and Louis was anxious to see if it was him.

He scurried out of his room, down the hall, and up to the window of his sitting room. Carefully, he pulled back the curtain, hoping not to make obvious movement, and hoping Harry wouldn’t already be looking up at him. He peeked through the smudged glass and choked down a cry when he caught sight of him. Untamed waves fell lazily as he stripped off his helmet, dark restless bruises had made a home under his eyes, and vulnerability was etched into the lines of his posture.

God. He looked just as exhausted as Louis felt.

He watched for a moment as Harry swung his bag off of his shoulder, to shove his helmet away, and dig around for a small bouquet of purple flowers.

Louis had seen those. Clearly remembers unloading a few dozen and separating them into tiny arrangements. Even took the time to tie white bows around their thick stems. Anything to keep his mind off his current situation.

 _Hyacinth’s_ , he believed they were called.

Louis was slightly startled when Harry jogged up the steps and pressed a firm finger to his buzzer. He was so caught up in Harry’s movements he hardly had time to dodge away from his window. Luckily, he made it away before Harry’s eyes wandered upward.

Louis dug his palms into his eyes as stress began to build behind them. What was he supposed to do? He wasn’t ready for this yet. He wasn’t finished being angry with him. If he let Harry up now, it would be nothing short of a another screaming disaster, and that was far from what they needed.

Another buzz vibrated its way through Louis’ flat, carelessly stirring his nerves, and pressuring him like no other sound has ever been capable of. Louis cringed with each incessant buzz. Each one lasting longer than the last and nearly driving Louis up the wall. He peeked through the slit of the curtain once more just as the buzzing stopped.

Harry dipped his head, pinching at the bridge of his nose, and remaining motionless for a second. His shoulders sagged in defeat. The grip on the flowers growing weaker by the second. Louis wanted to run down and hold him. Just long enough to rid the sadness from his body for a moment. But he knew that wouldn't solve anything, and knew he was better off staying put between the dreadful walls of his flat.

He watched as Harry dropped to his knee, laying the flowers gently across Louis’ front step, and pulling a scrap piece of paper and pen from his bag. He quickly scribbled against it, placing part of it under the bouquet, and rising to his full height to walk away. Louis could see from here, that the paper was only adorned with a dash and a large _H_.

He didn’t watch as Harry slipped his helmet back on and revved his engine to life. Instead, he swallowed down the acidic rise of emotion in his throat, and trudged down his hall to throw himself into his bed.

Someday this wouldn’t hurt as much. Someday the missed opportunity of hearing Harry’s voice just one more time, wouldn’t seem so tragically monumental.

 

\--

 

**_Wednesday_ **

  
Nicotine and tobacco sprinkled against Louis’ bare thigh as he ripped each poisonous stick to pieces, letting the bone-chilling winds dust the toxins from his skin gently, and ridding the remaining bits onto the floor of his balcony. They were Louis’ worst habit. A horrifyingly deadly vice. Clinging to them through his first teenage heartbreak and letting it consume him up until now.

He never quite liked the taste, anyway. Never really cared for the nausea that followed. He was done. _For good._

One remained between his fingers as he waited for his mobile to light up. The notifications stopped about an hour ago, and it wasn’t as if they were pouring in, anyway. Two missed calls and a hand full of messages added onto the unchecked pile from the previous two days. He could feel Harry slipping. Felt it each night he waited up to watch his phone die.

It’s not what he wanted in the slightest. But he was stubborn to a fault. He wouldn’t be surprised if Harry resented him by now. With all of his ignored attempts at being heard, and the bouquet of purple hyacinths laying untouched across Louis’ front steps. It was probably quite hurtful.

He tipped his head back against his chair and twirled the cigarette between his fingers. The sky was clear tonight. Even a few stars were visible if he squinted hard enough. It was peaceful and quietly calming the thoughts in Louis’ head. Breeze caressing his shivering skin and hands kept busy by vanquishing his weakness.

This was good. This was nice. Perhaps he could get some rest out of this.

His hand clenched around the cigarette as a low rumble slowly approached from down the road. It was painfully familiar. A sound that he couldn’t deny who it was from. His heart ached as the motor puttered nearer. His stomach twisted as the sound amplified on the other side of his flat and stalled out front for a moment. The engine cut off and the air went still around him. He pressed his eyes shut as he anticipated a buzz to ring through his flat.

Harry was making this so difficult. Seemingly just as stubborn as Louis, if not more. Wouldn’t it be easier on him to just not show up at Louis’ place every night?

The intruding buzz of his flat never came. He peeled his eyes open and strained to pick up any noise coming from the front of his flat. It was useless. Too many sound barriers surrounding him.

He flung his last cigarette of the top of his balcony just as he stumbled out of his chair. His skin dragged across the brick of the building as he squeezed through the narrow opening of his sliding door. _Fuck_ , he was going to have to fix that someday. He ran through his bedroom, just barely avoiding the sharp corners of his walls, and skipped up to the sitting room’s window. The curtain was pulled just slightly. Enough for him to lean up and peek through.

It was him. Pale as the late autumn moonlight, and the tips of his nose and cheeks slightly tinged red from the blistering cold. Still as gorgeous as the first day Louis saw him. He wanted to scream at him. Wanted to shake him for riding around on a night as chilly as this. It couldn’t have been good for him, even if he wasn’t visibly shivering.

He wanted to run outside and kiss him warm. Drag him up to his flat and yell at him, curse him for making Louis feel something so real, and tremble maddeningly through the inevitable angry sex. He wanted to roll over and see Harry’s face first thing in the morning. Wanted answers from him. Wanted him to fuck off back to his part of London.

Louis was so immensely conflicted, but he knew deep down all he wanted was Harry.  
  
He shook himself from his thoughts and took another look outside. The lighting in his neighbourhood was dim, but Louis could see Harry pulling loads of flowers from his bag. Ones identical to the bouquet he left the day before. He carefully gathered them in his arms and stepped in the direction of Louis’ flat. It was hard to tell just how many he had, but it was clearly more than a handful. Harry started at the bottom of the stairs, lining the bottom steps with small bouquets, one for each side, and repeating the process with every step it took to get up to Louis’ door. Laying them out carefully and adjusting them so they mirrored each other perfectly.

Louis couldn’t even imagine how much this must have cost him. Declarations by flowers definitely didn’t come cheap. He probably put a lot of thought into this too. Seeing the single ignored bouquet on Louis’ front step and thinking up ways to make the gesture more grand. Probably poured hours of research into the flower he chose, likely thinking Louis would take one look at the flowers, and understand their symbolism. He didn’t. He wanted to, but he didn’t.

This was too much. Too kind, too thoughtful, and too deserving of Louis’ attention.

He ripped himself away from the window, swallowing down a ball of hurt, and rushing to the comfort of his bed. He couldn’t watch Harry put in the effort. Couldn’t allow himself to fall for the same antics that got him into them mess. _Letting the flowers speak for him_.

Louis nosedived into his sheets, curling his trembling body around his pillow, and inhaling the nonexistent traces of Harry left behind. Louis’ eyes welled with tears of frustration as his mind tugged him from one extreme to the next. He didn’t want this for them. Why couldn’t Harry just give him the answers and apologies he wanted, that night? Why did he ask for more time if he was outside Louis’ flat every day since then, anyway?

A faint buzz untangled him from his thoughts. One so soft and quick, Louis wasn’t even sure if he made it up, or not. His body tensed as he anticipated another. Waiting, and waiting, until he heard the unmistakable crack of Harry’s engine and the miserably familiar sound of him riding off.

Louis felt sick. Was saddened to the bone. Knew he wouldn’t get a lick of sleep tonight, and would likely suffer for it tomorrow. He was frustrated and exhausted, but the one feeling that gnawed at him most, was regret.

He should have let Harry up.

 

\--

 

_**Thursday** _

  
Louis was practically dead on his feet. Book bag weighing his fragile shoulders down, stress of uni eating away at his motivation, and his seven hour shift wearing at the joints of his body. He was so physically and emotionally drained, and just wanted to sleep. If only his pile of coursework wasn’t preventing him.

His flat was visible from where he was walking. Purple petals littering the pavement and gentle winds whisking them away in the darkness. It was slightly surprising that no one has picked the bouquets up yet or even questioned their presence. Louis wondered if he should just give in and bring them indoors.

Not tonight, however. There was far too much on his plate to worry about. He didn’t need dozens of wilting flowers cramping his tiny space even more.

Louis groaned as he crossed the street to reach his place. Something he usually looked forward to after such a long, taxing, day. He scrubbed his hands over his eyes and dug his palms in deeply into his tear ducts. _God_ , all he wanted was a break.

As he brought his hands down from his face, he noticed an addition to his front steps. Roses. White ones. Petals fluttering across the cement and stems lined neatly against each step.

Blood drained from his cheeks and his lip wobbled uncontrollably. Louis didn’t have the energy for this. Felt his resolve crumbling by the second. He knelt to the ground to pick one up and sat down against his top step. Harry knew him _so_ well. Knew this would pull a reaction out of him and knew it would stop Louis dead in his tracks.

A _bloody_ flower. One Louis wasn’t even sentimentally attached to less than a week ago.

He brought the stem up towards his line of vision, pricking the petals from their base, and flinging them toward the wind.

_He loves me, he loves me not._

A stray tear slid against his cheek. A combination of stress, exhaustion, and the weight of his situation with Harry taking over his emotions. He ripped away at the delicate flower, tearing at the velvety petals, and crushing them against his palm.

_He Loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not._

Where was Harry? How was he feeling right now? Did he miss Louis the way he missed him?

His questions remained unanswered as he bit his trembling lip between his teeth and sniffed back a whimper. Never would he imagine himself crying on the front steps of his flat in _London_. Picking white petals from their stem, and determining whether his affection was returned, or not, by the results of a silly game.

Never would he imagine being so gone for a man that was willing to leave gardens at his feet.

_He loves me, he loves me not._

Louis picked and picked, narrowing down to the last few petals, and finding relief in the sound of the plant ripping. Maybe he would set aside an hour for some sleep. Maybe he’d finally check his phone and browse through his missed calls and messages. And if he was feeling up for it, maybe he’d get around to sending something back.

_He loves me._

 

  
\--

 

**_Friday_ **

  
Louis could breathe easier.

Holed up in his flat for the evening, and not having a single worry about work, or uni, until Monday. He hasn’t had a weekend off since he was hired, but he was so thankful he was able to obtain one. The warmth of his sofa cradled him into relaxation and the white noise of his telly nearly lulled him into sleep. The only thing stopping him from slipping into a deep slumber was the constant reel of Harry.

Not even cohesive thoughts about him. Just bits he admired most.

The constant image of his smile. The beauty mark on the corner of his chin and the dimples that accentuated it. The way his curls fell across his forehead when he stared down at Louis with his eyes so jade, and his lashes fanned wide. How his lips were so soft, and sweet, yet marked him up with no mercy. His gentle hands, so rough and fiercely protective. His brilliant mindset and his wonderful way with words. It was no wonder Louis had been up for days.

Harry gave him plenty to ponder over.

Louis cringed at the invasive buzz of his flat. Always ripping him from his thoughts gracelessly, and seemingly never ceasing once it’s begun. He debated just ignoring it. To not even bother getting up to check and see who it was, but alas, curiosity got the best of him, and the sound was beginning to drive him mad. He kicked his feet from off the sofa, and stepped toward the curtain of his front window.

Blue eyes met his own as Perrie shouted at him to let her up. _Fuck._ Louis completely forgot it was Friday. He was able to go the whole week dodging the topic of Harry and had expertly painted a smile onto his face each time he was in her presence. It was going to be nearly impossible to do that now.

Tripping over himself to get to his door, he scurried past the corners of his furniture, and pressed the button to allow Perrie up. It must have been freezing outside, seeing as she was bundled from her hat, to her scarf, all the way down to her black suede boots. Louis moved to unlock the door and left it cracked open for when she arrived. He shuffled back over to his sofa and curled his way into his original position. Legs stretched and hands folded under his cheek. Cozy. Warm.

The small thuds of Perrie’s boots approached closer, and closer, until finally she pushed through the door with a huff and slammed it shut. Louis hardly got a chance to peek over the back of his sofa before Perrie was pushing his legs over and making herself just as comfortable.

“Well, hello, darling. Did you forget about me?” a bit breathless, she raised a perfectly arched brow as Louis’ face twisted into confusion, “You were supposed to meet at mine, this Friday, since I missed out last week. And why have you avoided all my calls? I’ve been trying to ring you for hours. What's going on with you?”

Louis brought a pillow to his face and squeezed to avoid screaming. So much for his peaceful night in and so much for avoiding the topic of his heartbreak at all costs.

“I haven’t checked my phone in ages, Perrie.” he muffled from behind the pillow and irritably tossed it to the ground, “M’not even sure if it’s alive or not.”

A sour expression made it's way onto her face, “Goodness, you’re moody tonight.”

“Sorry.” he weakly apologized and folded his hands in his lap.

He couldn’t stop picking at the skin of his thumbs. Was anxious to open up to his best mate but was choking under the pressure of vulnerability.

It was far too quiet within the walls of his flat. Even with the telly as background noise, all Louis could focus on was the tension filled silence. Maybe Perrie already knew. Maybe she was just giving Louis the opportunity to speak first.

“I see you’ve done some landscaping out front,” Perrie spoke facetiously. Well. Shit. Louis must have been taking too long for her liking, “Purple and white flowers suit the place, I suppose.”

Louis rolled his eyes as he let out a frustrated sigh, “I didn’t put those there.”

“No?” she questioned with a squeak, “Who did then? Someone have a crush on you or summat?”

She definitely knew. Probably saw it in his pained eyes behind every manufactured smile. Everyone always seemed to know Louis better than he knew himself. Or, at least, the people he valued more than anything did. He kept his lips sealed. Not even knowing where he would begin or if Perrie would be sensitive about it. He shrugged his shoulders sulkily and dipped his head down to avoid seeing her reaction.

“What happened with Harry, Lou?” her words were soft spoken and laced with sympathy, “You haven’t been the same since you last saw him, and I don’t mean to pry, but I know keeping it all bottled up can’t be easy on you.”

She was right. It was hard and he did want to rid some emotions from within. But Louis couldn’t speak. Couldn’t form words. Genuinely didn’t know where or how to start this topic. Perrie knew so little about them, seeing as Louis hid pretty much everything from her. He opened his mouth to explain, but it all got caught in his throat. He was–stuck.

“Did he tell you why he left you?” she spoke gently. Unknowingly giving Louis a solid place to start.

“No,” he shrugged with a wince and twisted his lips to keep them from trembling, “I asked him flat out why he did it, and he wouldn’t tell me. I told him how much it hurt me that he’s never apologized, and he _still_ didn’t say sorry. Not even a half-arsed apology. Not even a shitty reason for why he left me. It was so weird, Perrie. He was just stood there with a look of guilt on his face but he wouldn’t budge–I just–I don’t get it. He’s the sweetest person I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, so it just doesn’t make sense that he’d not jump at the opportunity to clear the air,” he shook his head in frustration and looked over at Perrie, “I haven’t talked to him since then. He begged me to stay that night, but….”

Louis trailed off with another shrug. Stopping himself before he became too vulnerable and let the tears roll freely. He was so tired of that. Just wanted to be past this part already.

“Well, um, I spoke with him, you know. Briefly.” Perrie softly input and darted her eyes when Louis’ head snapped her way.

“What?” he asked incredulously.

“Oh, come on, you know he had to get those flowers from somewhere. He was probably hoping you'd be there but has gotten me every time.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? You didn’t talk about me did you?” he questioned urgently, sitting up from the couch and pressing closer into Perrie’s space.

“Well…” she trailed off as she bit her lip guiltily.

“God, Perrie, why?” he half shouted as he tugged at the roots of his hair, “You hated him last time I checked, and now you’re off sharing stories about me?”

“Are you kidding me, Lou?” her brows creased in disbelief, “I only ever asked him if you were okay, but turned out he didn’t know either, because you’ve been avoiding us both,” Louis’ stomach dropped as her voice slightly raised, “I understand you’re really hurt right now, but lashing out at me isn’t going to solve anything, and neither is locking yourself away in your flat. Harry has come by everyday since Monday, and has spent more than anybody should ever spend on flowers–christ–I didn’t even have the heart to charge him for the roses! Every time I saw him he looked more down than the last, and he was practically digging for change for all the hyacinths he purchased for you—”

“I didn’t ask him to do that for me, Perrie.” Louis cut in petulantly.

“Ha! Well that’s where you’re wrong, Louis,” she sat up straight forward and looked louis in the eyes, “You don’t know the symbolic meaning behind purple hyacinths, do you?”

Of course not. She knew good and well that Louis didn’t know shit about flower symbolism or their meanings.

“No. When have you ever known me to know about any of that stuff?”

“Never. And that’s a bloody shame, because you asked for an apology, and he gave it to you. _Well_ over a dozen times.”

“What are you on about, why can’t anyone just be clear for once?” he whined as he rolled his eyes.

“Was it clear to Harry that you’re a terrible florist and don’t know the meanings behind any flower? Because it seemed like he was under the impression you’d understand what he was trying to convey,” Perrie challenged.

Louis remained silent, knowing he was definitely in the wrong on this one.

“Purple hyacinths quite literally translate to, _I’m sorry_. He physically left you apology, after apology, at your doorstep, and you left them there to wilt.”

Christ...

Louis’ resolve came tumbling down.

This whole time he was writing Harry’s attempts off as pretentious, or contrived, yet every single day, he was giving Louis what he asked for. Hand delivering an apology in an imaginative, heartfelt way, whilst still giving Louis the space that he thought he needed. Harry was so considerate. So compassionate with everything he did. _Especially_ , when it came to Louis’ potential forgiveness.

He felt nauseous with guilt. How could he have not given Harry the benefit of the doubt? Why didn’t he ever think to research what the flowers meant?

“He said the white roses were special to you two. I didn’t ask why, but I thought it was rather fitting since they can symbolize new beginnings.”

Louis dropped his head with a whimper and brought his hands to cover his face. God, he felt like a complete arsehole. Remorse pricking at every bit of his skin. He felt Perrie pull him in by his hunched shoulders and rocked him gently as he cursed himself over and over.

“I’m not trying to push you into his arms or anything, but, I dunno, it’s quite clear he cares about you. Maybe start small, yeah? Read some of the messages he’s sent you or bring some of the flowers indoors. Pick them up off the ground, at least.” she soothed a hand over Louis’ back in such a nurturing way. He was so glad he had a best mate that was able to put aside her own reservations for Harry, for the sake of Louis’ happiness, “I’m sure he’s more than willing to wait however long it takes until you’re ready to talk to him again. Take all the time you need, love.”

Louis sat up straight once more, wiping away at his bottom lashes, and sniffling back his emotions, Jesus he was a right mess.

“Thanks for pulling my head out of my arse, time, and time, again,” he laughed genuinely for the first time in days, and Perrie laughed along with him, “Sorry I’ve been such a bloody recluse. I won’t make it a habit. Same with this whole consoling me thing.”

“Oh, please, as if you haven’t consoled me through far worse.” she smiled brightly and pinched at Louis’ cheek.

“Speaking of habits,” he paused to bite down on a proud smile, “I quit smoking. S’probably why I’ve been so unbearable these past few days. M’sorry.”

“Louis!” she yelled at the top of her lungs in excitement, crashing into him, and locking him in a tight hug, “That’s so amazing, love! Don’t apologize. We should celebrate!”

“Thanks, Pez.” he pulled back from her hug and snatched the beanie right off her head, “That sounds nice, but there’s absolutely no way you’re getting me out of the flat tonight.”

“I was thinking greasy take away as celebration, it’s far too cold to go anywhere,” she kicked off her boots one by one and wiggled her fuzzily socked feet until she was comfortable. “You up for it?”

“Yeah,” Louis agreed curling a pillow to his chest and getting comfortable against the cushions once more, “M’up for it.”

He would likely be out like a light before the take away arrived, but that was alright. Perrie knew her way around his flat and Louis would finally get some well needed rest. The uncomplicated kind. No stress of waking up early the next morning. No work. No Uni. Just sleep and peaceful visions of green eyes and lopsided smiles.

 

\--

 

Harry stopped by _again_.

Perrie shook Louis awake to have him stumble over to the window and watch him drop off a single pink tulip. He didn't stay long. Didn't even bother to buzz Louis’ flat. Just placed the flower where a welcome mat should be, and rode off.

Louis took his time getting to the bottom of the steps, dragging his feet one by one, and pushing through his rickety front door. So many petals scattered about and only the tulip remained pristine.

It reminded him of the emoji Harry saved by his contact name.

Louis sat against his top step, moving the flowers so he wouldn't crush them, and dug his mobile from his pocket. He hadn't checked his notifications in days and Harry seemed to be the majority of them all.

_Wish I knew how you were feeling._

_Miss you more than I could ever imagine, Lou._

_Miss your lips on mine._

The rest were mostly what Harry missed about him. How he wished he could take back all the hurt he’s caused and all the mistakes he made. A few begged Louis for another chance, while others reassured he respected Louis’ wishes, either way.

Louis was blown away by his patience. Harry's been ignored for nearly a week and had yet to give up. Louis hoped he wouldn't any time soon. Hoped he'd make one last effort so he could meet him halfway.

He placed his mobile back into his pocket and began to pick up the flowers one by one. He would end up with an armful before long, and the inside of his flat would feel more alive. It's was a small gesture, picking Harry’s declarations up off the ground, and bringing them indoors. He just hoped Harry wouldn't take it the wrong way.

 

\--

 

  
_**Saturday** _

 

The pressure behind tapping a single call button had Louis struggling for air. His screen had gone black well over a dozen times from rethinking, and second guessing, exactly what he would say. In a sense, he was ready to speak to Harry again, was ready to hear him out, and let him up to his flat to do so, but at the same time, he wasn't ready for another argument. Didn't want the place he called home to be a constant reminder of their fall out. Not that he planned for it to go in that direction, his mind was just busy preparing for the worst.

Louis tossed his phone to the side of his sofa and tugged exasperated hands through his fringe. Maybe he _wasn't_ ready. Maybe the air was so charged with something he couldn’t quite place for a reason. Fuck, he was so jittery. Needed something to do with his hands other than pull at the thick strands of his hair.

He stood from his sofa, pulling the sleeves of his white jumper over his knuckles, and making his way over to his wine cupboard. It was quite dusty from being neglected for so long, but he knew there was probably a bottle shoved in there somewhere.

Strawberry moscato. Pink enough to be visibly sweet and cheap enough to down in one night. He pulled the bottle from its shelf carefully, and set it down on the counter to be returned to. Above his head he reached for a single wine glass. One that wasn't covered in smudges or dust.

As soon as he chose one and set it against his counter, the walls began to shake familiarly, and the easily recognizable sound of a motorbike caught Louis’ attention. Without a second thought, he sprinted over to his front door. Throwing it open and urgently racing down the stairs. He couldn’t miss this. Couldn’t risk missing another perfect opportunity of Harry being in his space.

Adrenalin coursed through his veins as he reached the bottom of the stairs and moved to push his body through the front door of his building. The blistering winds nipped at his cheeks and the frigidness dried up his eyes instantly. Fuck, he should have thrown on a coat, or trousers, at least.

Stood foolishly, clad in only his jumper and pants, Louis saw no sign of Harry. Not a parked motorbike on the side of the pavement. Not a single retreating silhouette of tail lights whizzing away into the darkness. Not even a single flower thrown at the foot of his doorstep. Harry wasn’t here. Harry didn’t even stop by.

Louis slumped down against his front steps. Curling his knees into his chest, burying his face, and wrapping his arms around his shins. He was crushed. Mortified. Was beginning to think maybe Harry suddenly _was_ slipping through his fingers. Maybe Louis _did_ wait too long. Harry stopped by every other night, what was so different from now? What changed? Louis rocked his body back and forth, trying to accumulate warmth, as the temperature seemingly dropped by the second. His mind was at war with itself. What could he have done? What should he do? What if it was too late? What if he—

“Louis?” Harry’s low voice cut through Louis’ rambling thoughts. Silencing every last one of them with just the sound of his name.

Louis’ head shot up out of the crook of his arms. There Harry stood in front of him. Dressed in black from head to toe, leather jacket clinging to his arms, and winter kissed face so devastatingly handsome. Louis shivered at his appearance, and his nerves did their damnedest to choke him up. He was stunned.

“Why are you sat outside in your pants, sweetheart? It’s freezing.”

Louis’ insides twisted at the familiar pet name. _God_ , it sounded so good coming from that mouth.

He darted his glassy eyes away from Harry’s and masked the emotional wobble in his voice with a full body tremble, “Heard your bike–” he choked off with a shiver, “Didn’t want to miss you, again, so I just ran out here without thinking.” Louis shrugged his shoulders as Harry let out a hushed laugh, “Where is your bike, anyway?”

“Parked it around back.” Harry shrugged, digging his hands deep into the pockets of his jacket.

It’s never been so awkward between the two of them. There was never forced conversation or failed attempts at small talk. Louis couldn’t even meet Harry’s stare. Used to be able to go as long without blinking as him. It was all a bit too intimidating, now.

“No flowers this time?” Louis tried for a joke but completely failed the delivery.

With a look of regret, Harry shrugged uncomfortably, “Sorry, baby. I can only afford my word, tonight.”

Louis looked up at him, through guilty eyes, “M’sorry I didn’t realize what you were trying to say sooner,” a weak grimace slipped from his face, “Had I known what the hyacinths symbolized the first time you left them, I wouldn’t have let you go to such great lengths.”

“I wanted to.” Harry squat down to Louis’ level, “I’d leave a thousand red roses at your door, _every day_ , until you understood what I meant,” Harry’s gaze never faltered despite the chilly winds tangling his curls within his lashes, “But for now, I think it’s only fair that I give you what you asked for, yeah?” Louis hesitantly nodded as he bit his lip nervously, “Would you be willing to let me borrow a bit of your time? I won’t stay long if it’s not what you want, my love.”

A rousing wave of flutters danced around his stomach at the term of endearment. _Fuck_. He was so bloody terrified. Didn’t have a single idea of what they could be getting into. All of the previous night was spent convincing himself he was ready for this. He believed he was, but with Harry just within reach, it changed a lot of things. He felt equally as vulnerable as the night he walked away from him, and feeling so susceptible to that same pain, wasn’t making it any easier. It was hard, would likely be rough to sit through, but he knew they needed this, and right now seemed like a good place to start.

Louis stood to his full height, towering over a squatted Harry, and turning on his heel to lead them indoors, “I don’t want to do this in the cold, come on.”

Louis held the door open long enough to hear Harry practically stumble over the steps to follow behind. He wrapped his arms around his shivering body as he tiptoed up each step to his flat. It was killing him not to be touching Harry. Wanted so badly to fit his half dressed body under Harry’s arm, and steal a bit of Harry’s body heat for himself. Harry was always so warm, in more ways than one, and it was everything Louis craved.

They quietly made their way down Louis’ hall until they reached his half open door. Harry kept a respectable distance behind him, likely not wanting to encroach Louis’ space, or make him even the slightest bit uncomfortable. It was all so unusual. Harry would have had him pushed up against the door by now, if it weren’t for how fast things changed.

“I was about to pour myself a glass,” Louis grabbed for his bottle opener and got to twisting, “Would you like one as well?”

“Um, sure, if you don’t mind,” Harry stood awkwardly beside him, shoving a hand in his pocket, and using the other to fiddle with his hair, “Looks like springtime in here.”

Louis looked around his flat as he popped the cork from the neck of the bottle, and began to pour a glass each. Purple flowers spilled from their glass vases, sprinkling his wooden floors with petals, and white roses laid against the flat surface of his coffee table. Louis ran out of places to put them all. Only wanting to keep a spare rose by his bedside.

“It smells nice, at least.” Louis didn’t have much else to offer as he sipped from his own glass and handed Harry his, “Shall we?” he swiftly moved past Harry and curled up in the corner of his sofa.

Maybe he should’ve been dressed more appropriately. The smooth, tan, skin of his legs was even a distraction to himself. Watching them prickle as he shivered and hearing the sound of them rubbing them together for warmth. Trackies probably would have sufficed. _Oh well_. Too late for that now.

Harry sipped his pink moscato steadily as he took his seat next to Louis. Lips already stained pink and leather jacket quickly shedding from his shoulders. Louis couldn’t deny his attraction. Hypnotized by the simple act of him folding his clothing and setting down his drink. _God_ , and his bloody tattoos were out on display. Louis was going to need more than a sip and a half to get through this.

“I can’t tell you how many times I convinced myself that I’d never get this chance,” Harry grimaced, as he searched for the right words to say, “And now that I’m here, my stomach is all in knots, and my tongue is stuck in my throat. I can’t relax.”

“Drink up, then.” Louis advised, swallowing down a few mouthfuls of his own, and setting his glass on the table in front of him. His lips tingled as he licked them clean and he could feel his body relaxing by the second.

Harry took a sip, and another, and another, wincing through his gulps until his glass was nearly empty. He twirled it between his fingers. Watching the pink liquid swirl for a moment and flickering his eyes back to Louis’. With one last sigh, he tipped the glass back against his lips and completely finished it off. Louis would be impressed if he weren’t considering doing the same.

“I think I should start at the very beginning and progress into why I left you, and why it made sense to me at the time,” Louis remained silent as Harry leaned forward to set his glass against the table, and give his full attention to the conversation, “The first time I saw you, you were alone, timidly stepping into the room and unknowingly stealing the attention of everyone. Right away, I thought, ‘ _Go to him. Doesn’t matter what you say, just say something_.’”

Louis’ face burned. Could feel the singe from the tip of his ears to the apples of his cheeks. For once, he wished he weren’t so easily flustered.

“As I was on my way, you were just, like, standing there. It was almost too good to be true, if I’m honest. I had never come across someone who I was so immediately attracted to, like, my soul felt like it was drawn to you, almost. I wish I could better describe what I felt, but It’s there every time I look at you.” Louis knew the feeling. Could sense it in the air around him every time Harry was near, and could never quite put his thumb on if it was coincidence or not. Either way, he grew quite fond of their unique energy, “I didn’t even _know_ you, Louis, but all I could think about was protecting you, and when that prick came along to harass you, there was no question whether I’d risk it or not. I had to.”

Louis recoiled at the memory. He never really considered what could have happened if Harry wasn’t there to intervene.

“You were shaking,” Harry paused to nervously gnaw at his lip and flick his eyes away from Louis, “The look on your face Lou–fuck–I wanted to do everything I could to rid you of that fear. I just wanted to see your smile. Wanted to be the reason for it.”

Louis rolled his eyes irritably into the back of his skull, “I don’t want to hear that shit, Harry. It all sounds so insincere when you ended up leaving me.”

“I’m trying to be clear with you, Louis. This is all coming from a place of truth and vulnerability. I want to be open and candid with you, yeah?” Louis stewed in his irritation and bit his tongue for the sake of peace, “I’ve never connected so quickly with someone I just met. Never in my life have I wanted to take a stranger to bed as immediately as I did you. You knocked me flat on my arse, sweetheart. I didn’t stand a chance not falling for you.”

“Christ, Harry, then what the fuck happened?” anger boiled to the surface as he sat up straighter and looked Harry dead in the eye.

“I ran,” Harry shrugged regrettably, “Like a fucking fool, I ran out the back door and tried my hardest not to look back—”

“But, why?!” Louis yelled as he frustratedly threw his hands into the air.

“Because you bloody terrified me, Louis!” his roar was silencing as he sat up straight, and took Louis’ face gently between his hands, “My heart was rootless before I met you. I never believed in all that romantic, committed, shite all those god awful films tried to sell me. Happy endings were only ever cinematic fabrications in my brain. I always knew I wasn’t meant to love anyone,” he caressed his calloused thumbs tenderly against the skin of Louis’ cheeks, and thread his fingers through the soft strands of Louis’ hair. Face struck with fiery passion and awe, “And then I saw you, and I thought, ‘ _maybe falling in love wouldn’t be so bad_.’”

Louis swallowed hard. Eyes glassing over and heart rate picking up under Harry’s palm. He was speechless. Could only gnaw at his lips and stare back into the sincerity of Harry’s eyes.

“I searched for you for months. Nearly every night after I left you, I went back in hopes of finding you again. Even though I _knew_ you would always have that bit of resentment against me, I just needed another chance.” his hands slid from Louis’ face. One resting at the crook of his neck and the other placed against his knee, “I was just about ready to give up. My sleep was suffering, everyone around me said it was hopeless, I was beginning to revert back to my old loveless state of mind, and on top of it all, my bike was falling to pieces.”

Louis huffed out a laugh as the crease between Harry’s brows visibly softened. Memories of him stomping outside the flower shop to yell at Harry came flooding back in waves. God. If he knew back then what Harry just told him now, he might have gone a bit easier on him.

“M’sorry I yelled at you, then.” Louis mumbled. Words thick with emotion.

“Don’t be,” Harry spoke calmly. He withdrew his hands from Louis’ body, dragging them against his skin until he fully leaned back against the sofa, and took the warmth of his finger tips with him, “You screaming at me was nothing short of what I expected from our first reunion.”

Harry shrugged. Clearly ashamed of himself and his actions. Louis’ heart sank further as they sat in mutual silence. He wanted to say something, _anything_ , yet he couldn’t form the words to speak. Couldn’t find it in himself to disagree.

“It sort of made me a believer in fate, though. Here I was, sure that I’d lost any chance with you, and that I’d never run into you again, and then out of all the places my bike could have broken down, it just happened to be outside of where you were. Mad, innit? I could hardly breathe when I saw your face, again.”

Harry looked over toward Louis, lifting a hand to caress his cheek, and placing it back down against his bare knee. Seemed as if Harry couldn’t go too long without touching him, and in the moment, Louis didn’t mind the extra comfort.

“I’m so sorry for everything that I’ve done to you, Louis.” Harry’s voice trembled as he visibly held back his emotions, “I’m sorry that I made you feel used. I’m sorry I avoided giving you the truth that you deserved for so long, and I’m so sorry that my reason for leaving you is such a shitty one. And I don’t expect you to forgive me, or even understand where my mind was at, at the time, but I want you to know I’m willing to work for your trust, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make all of this right,” Harry looked up through misty eyes and laced his fingers between Louis’, “Even if that means you want me gone for a little while. I’ll understand.”

Louis’ heart clenched at his words. He genuinely believed Harry. Was certain that he was willing to go to the ends of the earth just to earn a smidgen of Louis’ trust. But Louis didn’t need that. Would never even think to ask him of it. He only ever needed the truth and Harry, right where he was.

Without a second thought, Louis unlaced Harry’s hand from his own, and crawled to straddle himself against Harry’s lap. He needed his touch. Longed for his warmth. His arms wrapped naturally around Harry’s neck as he buried his face in his shoulder. Feeling Harry’s hands hesitantly wrap around his waist sent a pummelling wave of unease through his system. Why wouldn’t Harry touch him?

“Cuddle me.” Louis begged, partially muffled by the muscle of Harry’s shoulder.

Air was instantly crushed from his lungs as Harry enveloped him in his arms. Hands wandering up and under the thick fabric of Louis’ jumper. Fingers slotting against the dip of his ribs and palms squeezing at the curve of his hips. The soothing motions of Harry’s hands never ceased, but something was clearly off in the tense posture of his body.

Louis pulled back from the embrace, frown evident, and body sagging with dissatisfaction. Harry looked up at him through a strained smile. The corners of his mouth dipping downward and the thumbs tracing patterns into his skin slowing to a halt.

“Why are you so reluctant to touch me?” Louis questioned with a hurt tone to his voice.

“No–god–no. I’m not. It feels amazing to have you in my arms again, I promise.”

“Then what’s got you so tense?”

“I just—” he swallowed audibly and dug his hands into Louis’ flesh as a vice, “I just want to know how you’re feeling about all of this. It doesn’t feel right taking from you if I don’t know what you’re thinking. I want us to be on the same page. Always.”

Louis deflated a bit, but knew Harry was right. He sighed as he uncurled his hands from around Harry’s neck and brought them to fiddle in his lap. Candid conversation wasn’t his strong suit, but he was willing to try for Harry.

“I know you said you don’t expect me to forgive you, and I didn't expect myself to either, but I do. All I ever wanted was the truth and an apology, and I feel like you gave me both from the bottom of your heart. That’s all I’ll ever ask of you.” he shrugged as he took the fabric of Harry’s shirt between his hands and twisted, “I know we’ll probably fight over it more in the future, and I’m going to be a right pain in your arse about it, but for now, I don't want this hanging over our heads. I just want to get missing you out of my system, yeah? Five days without you should be grounds for punishment.”

Relief was clear in the lines of Harry’s face. Tense body relaxing and colour returning to the surface of his skin. Louis didn’t realize just how much weight he was holding behind those carefully spoken words.

“I missed you too, petal.” Harry reached a hand up to cradle Louis’ cheek. Softly running his thumb over Louis’ lips and lingering there as Louis kissed it, “You’re so good to me, you know that? You’re so gracious, and sweet, and so incredibly lovely, even though you pretend not to be.”

Louis fawned under the praise. Smothering his blush in Harry’s enormous hand by kissing his palm, and pecking every last fingertip. He didn’t quite know how to respond, but he settled for a flutter of his lashes, and a bashful, “I know that.” Harry couldn’t have looked more pleased if he tried.

“So you’re willing to give us a shot, then?” there was hope in his words and Louis couldn’t help but smile mischievously at the sound.

“That depends…” Louis trailed off with a coy smile as he tugged hard at the hem of Harry’s shirt.

“Yeah?” Harry bit his bottom lip as his dimples made a reappearance. It was the first genuine smile Louis has seen of Harry’s in days. God, has he missed it. “Depends on what, darling?”

Louis slowly dragged his arse against the tight cloth of Harry’s trousers, working his hips in small figure eights, and lazily running his hands up through Harry’s hair, “Depends on how thoroughly fucked I am by the end of the night.”

“Mmm,” Harry moaned as he gripped Louis’ hips and set the pace, “Seems like I’ll be calling you mine within the hour, then.”

Louis threw his head back in a giggle, and was nearly caught off guard when Harry brought him back down by the neck, and kissed him intently. Their smiles pressed against each other until they were breathless and Louis could feel the quick swipe of Harry’s tongue. He wanted more. Could still taste the moscato that stained his mouth pink. Louis slowed the pace as his breathless giggles transitioned into breathless moans. He tugged harshly at Harry’s hair, causing his mouth to fall open, and practically invite Louis in for a taste.

Harry pulled away abruptly, leaving Louis to pout frustratedly, “One little wager and suddenly you’re in control, huh?” Harry smiled deviously as Louis’ cheeks blushed a crimson shade.

“Can’t I just snog you without being berated? It was nice having control for a second.” Louis attempted to dive back in but was held back by Harry’s hand against his chest.

“Give it up to me, yeah?” Harry pressed his lips sloppily to the bottom of Louis’ neck, “Y’know you love it when I’m in control of your pleasure,” Louis eyes fluttered shut at the slick feeling of Harry’s mouth teasing his skin, “You know I’ll give you everything you ask of me. Let me do this for you, baby.” Harry sucked against Louis’ throat and caressed his hands maddeningly against Louis’ sides, “Want my touch to heal the pain, I caused you. Want to worship your body with my own. Will you let me, angel?”

Fuck. Harry could easily convince Louis of anything with just his words alone.

Louis’ body buzzed with arousal. Skin beneath Harry’s lips prickling and warmth pooling at the bottom of his spine. He’s never wanted something so bad. Was never drawn to another human quite like this. It was maddening, the way Harry reduced him to a trembling pile of obedience, with his lashes fluttering shut, and body shivering into compliance. But he trusted Harry, and loved just how thoroughly taken care of he always was.

“I’ll give it up, this once,” Louis snickered as Harry polished off his love bite, “Don’t get used to it, though.”

Harry looked up at him through creased brows and a deeply intense stare. It might have unnerved Louis a bit more, if he weren’t so obviously holding down a laugh, “Wine makes you cheeky, does it?” Louis nodded his head biting down on a sinister smile. Harry leaned in to kiss his lips gently and squeezed roughly at Louis’ hips, “Go wait for me in the kitchen, then.”

Louis wasn't even allowed a confused response as Harry lifted him up off his lap, and dashed into the direction of his bedroom. He was undoubtedly eager as he modeled his quick steps after Harry’s, but was curious as to why he wanted him in the kitchen. Louis stepped up to the counter, pushing the half filled bottle of wine to the side, and placing himself on top.

The warm material of his jumper became too overwhelming, causing him to rid it from his skin, and toss it just out of sight. Louis was sat only his pants as Harry stepped from around the corner, bare from his top, and unzipped trousers hanging loosely around his waist. Jesus. Harry was eroticism _personified_.

Warm lips pressed to the center of Louis’ chest as Harry set each bedroom essential on the counter. Louis sighed contently as he softly thread his hands through Harry’s hair, and spread his legs to pull him in.

“Love the taste of your skin,” Harry mumbled against the expanse of his chest as he nibbled his way up to the lobe of Louis’ ear, “Love the salty sweet nectar you leave against my tongue,” Louis whimpered at his words and shivered at the feeling of his cock stirring, “Wanna drink the rest of that moscato from the dips of your body. Can I do that, petal? Let us get a bit messy?”

Louis struggled to breathe as Harry licked at his neck convincingly, “Do what you want with me,” Louis hissed as Harry bit near his clavicle, “Just do _something_.”

Harry peeled his lips back from the quickly forming bruise on Louis’ collarbone, stare heated, and unrelenting. As intimidating as it was, the underlying softness in his eyes gave away the tender motives behind his glare. Harry lifted a hand to tug at Louis’ hair and gently kiss against his lips.

“Don’t make me pull out the rose again, yeah? Just lay back and let me praise you while I do this,” Harry afforded one last peck and reached over to grab the bottle of wine, “Lean back for me.”

Louis pouted. Puckering his pink lips to the best of his ability. He couldn’t help but stubbornly defy him one last time by begging for a kiss. Harry growled as he gave in, roughly sealing their lips, and pushing Louis’ body down against his elbows.

Louis’ heart pounded in sensual trepidation as Harry traced the rim of the bottle against his mouth and quietly instructed him to sip. Louis obeyed, easily swallowing the warm liquid as it slid smoothly down the back of his throat. Eyes locked on Harry’s and Harry’s locked on the way his mouth wrapped around the bottle. Louis made a show out of it. Letting his eyes prettily flutter shut and hollowing the dips of his cheeks obscenely.

“Jesus, Louis,” Harry pulled the rim of the bottle away from his lips and sloppily replaced them with his own, “Never seen something quite as breathtaking as you.”

He laid a hand on Louis’ chest, gently tipping him flat onto his back. Harry’s eyes lingered on his as he left a wet trail of kisses down his torso, pausing to flick his tongue against each nipple, and pressing further down until he reached his tummy. Harry tilted the bottle, pouring the pink liquid into his bellybutton, and letting it spill up his abdomen. Louis let his head roll back as Harry slurped the sweetness from his body and used his tongue to swipe up the trails that got away.

“Mmm, _fuck_ ” Harry hummed lowly, swallowing down the warmth, and pouring out a bit more against his sternum, “I may never drink from another wine glass, again.”

Pink pooled in the center of his chest as a bit escaped and gathered at the dip of his neck. Harry was mostly making a mess, but Louis was intoxicated by the feel of his tongue chasing the liquid across his body. Never knew he needed an experience like this. Would never think it would feel so incredibly natural.

“Love your body,” Harry mumbled as he sipped from the pool at Louis’ chest, “Love that you’re so willing to let me in,” he trailed his tongue up against his neck and sucked at the small gathering there, “to let me taste, to let me claim. Love that you allow me to have my way with you. Love that you trust me.”

Sticky droplets of pink dripped against his skin as Harry cradled his body in the upright position. His lips buzzed against Louis’ as he languidly worked his mouth open. Hints of melon and notes of caramel danced against his taste buds, leaving a tart after taste that Louis salivated for. Fingers hooked into the band of his pants as Harry bit down against Louis’ lip, and dragged it out torturously. God, the pain stung so deliciously. A pleasant contrast to the warmth pooling in the pit of his stomach.

In one swift motion, his pants were down around his ankles, and slipping delicately to the ground. Harry pressed the bottle to Louis’ lips, again. Letting him swallow down small amounts and brushing away what slipped past his corners.

“Love your mouth,” Harry spoke as he pulled the bottle away and set it to the side, “Love your sharp tongue and the breathless way you say my name. Love all the gorgeous sounds you make. Love hearing your voice even when you're not there,” he kissed the wet sheen from Louis’ lips and gently held his face in his hand, “Tell me how you’re feeling, sweetheart.”

Louis was half caught in a daze and half entranced by Harry’s words. Eyes partially glazed over and small smile playing on his lips. He felt amazing. Couldn’t even put it into proper words just how great he felt.

“I feel like–I don’t want this to end.”

The two of them were reduced to laughter as they connected at the forehead and giggled into each other’s mouths. Louis has never giggled during sex. Has never felt so open and comfortable in his life.

“Well, good thing I’m just getting started, yeah?” Louis whimpered as Harry pulled away from him to reach for the lube, popping the lid open, and squeezing a generous amount on his fingers, “Look at me.”

Louis peered down at Harry, as his bottom was pulled partially off the counter, and a slick pressure brushed between his cheeks. His toes curled as he turned his face away to hide his overwhelmed expression. Harry took his dry hand to direct Louis’ gaze back towards him. Not allowing him to hide in the shadows of his vulnerability.

“My beautiful boy,” Harry pushed a finger in as Louis’ eyes brimmed with tears, taking every last bit of breath he had remaining, “You’re my lilac in the sun. Never going to find another quite like you. And I wouldn’t ever want to.”

If there was one thing Louis knew about Harry, it was his vast knowledge, and love, of flower symbolism. His words were poetry by default, but Louis knew he’d be swept off his feet just as soon as he figured out what he truly meant.

Harry brought their faces closer as he worked himself in and out of Louis’ body. He took his sweet time letting Louis adjust to the size of his finger alone, and showered Louis in praise, no louder than a whisper. Harry teasingly leaned in for a kiss and pulled back just at the last moment, leaving Louis’ lips alone, and kissless. He was driving Louis _mad_ with desire. Not letting him forget who’s actually calling the shots here.

Harry brought Louis’ hand down between his legs, causing him to melt at the touch, and thrust his clothed cock against it. _All yours_ and _Yours only_ muttered against the shell of his ear as Harry worked a second finger inside him. Louis wanted to scream. Wanted to gasp out just how much pleasure he took in all of this. Bright lights popped behind his eyelids as Harry curled his long fingers upwards and prodded at all the right nerves.

The counter was a slippery mess, covered in pink alcohol, and excess lube, but Louis couldn’t be bothered. Was solely captivated by the man in front of him, earning his way into Louis’ heart, and quickly making a home there. Harry must have seen the warmth in his eyes, as he let a quick smile pass over his face, before masking it with a press of their lips.

“What’s on your mind, baby? Still feeling good?” Harry spoke into the crook of his neck as he teased a third finger against his rim.

“I’m perfect, Harry,” Louis leaned his head against the cupboard behind him as Harry trailed his lips down towards his nipple, “M’just happy that you’re here. I don’t wanna go that long without you, again.”

Harry grazed the nub gently as he pushed and scissored his fingers in and out of Louis’ hole, “You’ll never have to worry about that,” he pulled away from his chest and looked him in the eyes, “I’ll stay for as long as you’ll have me. I promise.”

He was clearly determined to stay true to his word, wearing his emotions on his face, and sealing the deal with a kiss. Louis was caught off guard when Harry stepped back, stripping himself of his remaining clothing, and reaching for the condom to roll on. Louis attempted to adjust himself, nearly sliding off the counter, and letting his arse fully hang off the edge. Harry huffed out a string of laughter, quietly apologizing for not being able to help himself, and burying his giggling face in his hands. Louis couldn’t be arsed as he made grabby motions and pouted petulantly. He attempted to wrap his legs back around Harry’s waist, but was just short of reaching him.

“ _Need you_.” Louis whined as Harry remained naked and motionless.

Harry reached for the lube, squirting a hefty bit into his palm, and slowly slathering it against his length. _Fuck_ , he was such a tease. Besting Louis at his own fucking game. Harry stepped forward between Louis’ thighs, pulling him closer, and securing Louis’ legs behind his back.

“Beg.” Harry softly demanded as he ran the tip of his prick against Louis’ entrance.

“Please,” Louis shivered at the feeling, “Please–fuck–wanna feel you. _Only_ , you. Need you so bad, Harry,” Louis met Harry’s stare through bleary eyes and hitched breaths, “Make love to me, yeah?”

Permission granted, Harry pushed the head of his cock in, taking Louis by the mouth, and kissing away the pain. Their bodies and souls finally connected in every sense of the word. Sharing discomfort and loving their way through it.

“Don’t let me go.” Harry quietly begged as he sank further in and cradled Louis in his arms.

Louis went boneless with his thrusts. Clinging onto Harry’s shoulders the best he could as Harry worked up a slow, tantalizing, rhythm. Skin stuck against skin as their torsos pressed tightly together. Dewy warmth radiated from their bodies, throughout the early winter air, and the sound of their breathing crashed through the silence. Louis scratched harshly at Harry’s back as he pounded in harder, and harder, causing the bottom of Louis’ spine to dig uncomfortably into the counter.

Louis couldn’t find the words to make it better. Was too busy having the breath fucked out of him on each thrust. He whimpered in a mixture of pleasure and pain, and was immediately relieved when Harry abruptly halted all movements.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Harry questioned urgently, eyes scanning Louis’ face for answers, and hands carefully caressing his face.

Louis caught his breath before speaking, “My–fuck–the counter. It hurts—”

Before Louis could finish, Harry lifted him up off the edge, one arm around his bruising back, and the other holding him up by the thigh. Harry kissed wherever he could reach. Sprinkling soft presses of the lips across his face and whispering gentle encouragements into his ear. He was so fucking good at taking care of every one of Louis’ needs.

“Better, my love?” he asked breathlessly as Louis clenched around the member still lodged inside of him.

“Yes,” Louis whimpered as he slightly leaned back and bounced down against Harry’s thick cock, “Keep going, p-please. Already _so_ close.”

Louis clung to Harry’s shoulders as Harry gripped him by the cheeks and thrust in unrelentingly. His moans escaped his chest on their own accord, filling the tiny room with filthy sounds, and spurring Harry on to fuck him harder. Louis felt a tear slip past his eye as the feeling and emotions consumed him. He sunk his teeth into Harry’s neck as he felt his orgasm quickly approaching, doing all he could to make this last for the both of them.

“Say you’re mine,” Harry panted as his thrusts became erratic, “Please baby, that’s all I need to hear.”

Louis clenched harder, coming to terms with the fact that he was going to come untouched, for the first time in his life. Harry perfectly wrecked into his prostate as his legs buckled under pleasure. No other feeling could possibly compare. This was it. They were both so desperate for release.

“I’m yours.” Louis cried out as come shot up gracelessly between them.

Harry’s body trembled inside of him, arms shaking around him, and hands gripping deeply into the flesh of Louis’ arse. It was perfect. A physical connection that was utterly and completely unmatched. Harry drove his hips upward one last time, milking what was left in him, and gently slipping out when it bordered on the edge of painful.

Harry didn’t let him down as he carefully walked them over to his bedroom. Louis’ vision blurred as the effects of mind blowing cock and pink moscato hit him all at once. Cool sheets caressed against his heated skin as Harry gently laid him down and placed a tender kiss to his forehead. Louis grumbled as he moved to retreat to the en suite. Harry quickly stopped in his tracks, reassuring him he wasn’t going anywhere, and refusing to move any further until Louis’ grip on his hand loosened.

Louis felt as if he only blinked when a damp rag dragged across his sticky body. Harry was so good to him. So good. Would never leave Louis when he needed him most and did everything he possibly could to prove how _deeply_ he cared for him.

Harry tossed the rag to the side as he moved toward the sliding balcony door, cracking it open, and allowing a cool breeze to filter through the room. He crawled up into the bed, laying flat against the pillows, and dragging Louis’ satiated body against his. Harry was warm. Always so warm, and Louis was elated to be able to claim him for his own.

He was quickly slipping into the deepest depths of sleep. Finally freed from his worries and lying in bed with the man he adored most. The calming rhythm of Harry’s heartbeat pulsed in his ear, slowly bringing Louis back down to earth, and lulling him into a sense of peace.

Just before he fell asleep for the night, letting his body finally relax, and putting his mind fully at ease, Harry whispered lowly into the deafening silence of Louis’ flat. A declaration so meaningful, any amount of flowers would pale in comparison.

“Love the way, I’m in love with you. Love every single thing about you.”

 

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	13. Chapter 13

The moon took its time stealing the sunlight from the day. Thin strokes of cirrus clouds stretched wide across the atmosphere, drowning in a sunset of rose gold, and disappearing into the retreating summer sun. The evening breeze slithered across Louis’ sunkissed skin, dousing him in warmth, and caressing the delicate petals of the daisy tucked behind his ear. Harry loved when Louis came home adorned with flowers. Couldn’t keep his lips off of him, even with his skin salty, from the mild heat.

Louis had steadily fallen since early winter. Harry had slowly become the pillars of his good mornings and consistently kissed him to bed every night.

December evenings were spent revising within reach of each other. Never separated long enough to go cold, yet giving each other enough space to not get distracted.

January afternoons were filled with dead shifts at the flower shop, entertaining one another, and warming Perrie up to the idea of Harry. She loved him by now. Loved the way he put the shimmering light back into Louis’ eyes.

February was romance and March was when he _knew_. Something about the way Harry thrived in spring time had Louis smitten to the bone. He hasn’t admitted it out loud yet, and Harry hasn’t repeated the words since the first night he uttered them, but Louis trusted the feeling each time they were around each other.

April and May were spent kissing in the rain. Dragging their damp bodies up to Louis’ flat and scrubbing themselves clean of the seemingly endless downpours.

It was mid-June by now, and Harry was sat inside Louis’ flat, patiently awaiting his arrival. Pomegranate scents wafted from his open windows, out onto the street, letting Louis know Harry had his candles lit for the evening. It wasn’t something Louis was accustomed to before Harry entered his life, but now the scent was a gentle reminder of the man he loved, and he couldn’t sleep without the sweetness invading his lungs.

Louis skipped up the front steps of his flat, pulling the door open, and pushing his way into the stairwell. He tiptoed up the stairs, breathlessly rushing his way up to his level, and quietly slipping through the door of his hallway. It wasn’t too late yet, but Louis knew there was a chance that Harry could be sleeping inside. His schedule had been a bit hectic lately. Interning for the BFI London Film Festival by day, and working the exhausting bartending shift by night. There was only a few fitful hours of sleep he could fit in between the two, but luckily enough, tonight would be his last shift at the nightclub until uni started up again.

Without a sound, Louis pulled his keys from his pocket, and gently made his way to unlock his front door. Soft static could be heard crackling from Harry’s dusty speakers as Louis gently closed the door behind him. Vinyl record spinning minutely even as the music ended. Harry was a bit of a purist. Was adamant on moving his sound system into Louis’ place since he spent most of his time there anyway. Louis slipped off his trainers before tiptoeing into the flat and peeking over the back of the sofa.

Harry was laid out peacefully. Skin glistening under the pink light of the warm evening. Ever growing curls cascading down his broad shoulders and across the cushion he rested upon. Inked arms crossed tightly over his naked torso and chest steadily rising and falling with the pattern of his breathing. He looked so peaceful. The sleepless bruises under his eyes were hardly noticeable from here. Louis wanted to kiss him. Wished he could press his lips to his sweaty forehead without disturbing his slumber.

Louis silently stepped over to the record player, carefully using the cue lever to lift the needle up off the vinyl, and turning the entire system off completely. As he slipped the record back into its protective sleeve, he glanced over his shoulder to find Harry watching him through bleary eyes. Although he felt terrible for waking him up, Louis lit up under his gaze, and quickly finished storing away Harry’s music.

He quickly rid his body from his socks and trousers, making himself more comfortable in the summertime heat. Harry adjusted himself to make room on the sofa, holding his arms out as an invitation, and yawning as he waited. Louis comfortably curled in. Kissing Harry gently on the lips before laying his head against his sticky chest. Their eyes fluttered shut as Harry lazily stroked a hand through the silky locks of Louis’ hair. Slowly scratching his fingertips against his scalp and lightly pressing his sleepy lips to his hairline. His body was still warm from rest and his breathing pattern still low and even. The only sound flickering through the flat was flames burning against the multiple candle wicks.

The atmosphere was soft. Serene and unruffled. Comfortable and safe. Louis was endlessly grateful he was able to call this home.

“Hi, baby.” Harry raspily whispered against Louis’ forehead, sending a wave of shivers down his thinly clothed spine.

“Hi, love,” he tipped his head up to connect their lips in a lax snog. Tongues only dipping in for a taste and bodies slowly drawing in closer, “Sorry for waking you. I tried to be as quiet as possible.”

“S’alright, I’ve missed you anyway,” Harry continued to caress his scalp as his other hand lifted up under his t-shirt. His palm laid heavy at the bottom of Louis’ spine, not moving, or teasing, just finding comfort in touching him, “Haven’t seen much of you these days. You’re still looking fit, though. Who’s the lucky lad?”

Louis dissolved into laughter at the crook of Harry’s neck, “You’re such an idiot,” he pressed the harmless dig into his skin, kissing where he could reach, and cuddling in closer, “You act like you don’t see me everyday.”

“Kissing you goodbye doesn’t count,” he carefully turned over on his side, laying Louis down on his back, and hovering over him, “I haven’t spent proper time with my boy in ages,” he brushed the ends of Louis’ fringe off his forehead, firmly tucking the small daisy back behind his ear, and leaving a lingering kiss to his cheek, “M’so glad I get evenings with you back after tonight. S’really the only thing getting me out of this flat.”

The exhaustion was clear in his voice. His words slightly slurred together, whereas he’d normally take his time, correctly pronouncing every last syllable. Louis wanted to pause time for a bit. Let Harry get the sleep he deserved and selfishly spend more time with him.

“I’ll wait up for you tonight, yeah? I’m off tomorrow, I can afford it.”

“Don’t be silly, babe, get your rest.” he kissed the pout off Louis’ lips and smirked when he wasn’t completely successful, “I have to stop by mine first, anyway, so I’ll be back pretty late.”

Louis grumbled at his words and grabbed harshly at Harry’s hips, “Just move your shit in, already. I don’t want to wait until September.”

“Mmm, be careful what you wish for, sweetheart,” Harry pressed his weight into Louis’ front and slowly laced their hands above his head, “I’m going to be in your space everyday and every night. Using up your hot water, taking up all your closet space, make an oily mess from working on my bike,” he grinned widely as he attempted to get under Louis’ skin, “I’m going to drive you positively mad,” he leaned down to kiss the smirk off Louis’ lips, “You’re going to hate having me around, so much.”

The two of them giggled into their kiss. Smiling against each other’s lips and clenching their laced hands tightly together.

“You already drive me mad,” Louis bit down teasingly against Harry’s bottom lip, “And I already hate having you around,” they snorted at the obviously false statement and Louis pressed a languid string of kisses to Harry’s lips, “Hate kissing you, as well.”

“Mmm,” Harry laughed lowly in his chest and roughly pressed against Louis’ mouth, “You hate that you can’t _stop_ kissing me.”

Harry swiftly licked into Louis’ mouth, silencing any remark he had on the tip of his tongue. Louis’ legs fell open on instinct, letting Harry slot comfortably between them, and slowly crossing them behind his back. Harry’s kisses were so _addictive_. Even after nearly a year of receiving them, the effect still hadn’t worn off. Louis still longed for his plush lips and did everything he could to keep them attached to his own.

Their hands unlaced slowly as Harry kissed a trail down Louis’ t-shirt clad body and let his hands roam freely over his curves, “Time is it?” he husked out against a sliver of exposed skin.

“S’nearly nine,” Louis half panted as Harry nipped against the thin skin above his waistband, “Don’t start anything you can’t bloody finish.” he warned.

“Oh I can finish you off alright,” he leaned up to quickly steal a kiss for Louis’ unsuspecting lips and fully sat back on his haunches, “I just don’t have time, right now.”

Louis scowled as Harry laughed maniacally. He reached his right hand up, twisting Harry’s nipple roughly, and latching on with a tight grip. It only spurred Harry’s laughter on further and Louis could do nothing other than succumb to the sound.

He was so _deeply_ in love and it was so obviously reciprocated.

Their laughter died down a bit as Harry’s eyes lingered on his. Full of admiration and fluttering prettily as he watched Louis giggle. Seemingly gone breathless, Louis felt his heart stutter in his chest. Harry’s never quite looked at him this way. Or for as long.

“What?” Louis questioned softly, coy smile on his lips.

“You’re just–” Harry cut off, seemingly searching for the right words, “You’re _everything_.” Louis blushed as Harry, for once, did the same. He was tongue tied and flustered, and it wasn’t very often Louis got to see him like this, “I love when you wear flowers in your hair, have I told you that? I love it so much, baby.”

“Of course you have, you giant sap,” Louis smiled brightly as he sat up straight, “Why else would I come home like this?”

Harry only offered an apprehensive stare as a response. Eyes practically saying everything he couldn’t as they bordered on distressed. He was nervous. Looked as if he were dying to say something, but was aggressively biting his lips back. Louis understood. Had been in his same position plenty of times. He wouldn’t dare pressure Harry into admitting something out loud, when it probably scared the hell out of him. Louis always wanted Harry to feel comfortable and hoped he could convey that it was alright for him to take his time.

There wasn’t a doubt in his mind how Harry felt, and he _knew_ Harry would be able to say the same for him.

“I love wearing flowers in my hair, too.”

 

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Louis couldn’t help but fall in and out of fitful, and unsatisfying, sleep. Tossing and turning beneath the suffocating sheets and kicking off articles of clothing as he grew more uncomfortable by the minute. He worried himself sick about Harry on nights like these. Where he was up and running on less than a few hours of sleep, body exhausted nearly past his breaking point, and weaving through the streets of the city on his aggressively puttering motorbike. The possible dangers lurking around every corner filled Louis’ mind with unease, and no matter how many times Harry assured him to sleep, he couldn’t help but wake up, hoping to hear the comforting rev of his engine.

It was only an hour til dawn, by now. Moonlight dimly casting across the foot of his bed through the open door of his balcony, still air filling its way into Louis’ flat, and refusing to caress him to sleep. His lips were nearly chewed raw by now as he curled into himself and picked at the skin of his thumbs. There was no hope for sleep tonight. Not as long as Harry wasn’t home.

He turned over onto his back, ridding himself of the sheets completely, and watching as chills zinged up the expanse of his body. He counted them one by one, before they quickly faded away. Anything to pass the time in the darkness of his room.

As he inhaled to calm his nerves, the air was suddenly thinner. Traveling through Louis’ lungs with ease, and helping him breathe easier than just a moment before. The pit in his stomach bursted with familiar energy, causing him to bring his hands over his stomach, and press lightly at the feeling. He leaned over to his beside to check the time, again. 4:17 am. Such a dreadful, unforgiving, hour. Anticipation coursed through his system as the minutes until Harry returned ticked down. _Goodness_ , he was so happy this would be the last time he’d have to lie awake through this.

His heart stuttered in his chest as he heard a faint rumble from around the corner. A slow smile crept up on his face as the noise drew closer and closer. Their neighbours probably despised the window rattling sound by now, but that was no matter, it soothed Louis’ soul, and comforted the worried part of his brain. Harry stalled outside for a minute, likely backing in carefully, and making sure his bike was safely tucked away.

Louis adjusted himself in his bed, scrambling to face away from the door, and pulling the sheets just high enough to cover the dip of his bum. He clenched his eyes shut, getting out every last excited smile, before Harry clambered up, and caught him grinning to himself in the darkness. Warmth spread throughout his body as the sound of Harry’s engine cut off. He buried his face into the softness of his pillow, and patiently awaited the sound of Harry slipping through his bedroom door.

His toes curled, as he shuffled his legs together, to rid a bit of the nerves within him. It was such a wonderful feeling - that even after all they’ve been through - Harry still gave him butterflies. There was once a time when Louis refused to believe he could feel so strongly for him, and more than anything, he was glad they could move past that, and grow stronger from experience.

He stilled at the sound of footsteps just outside his walls. He held his breath as his door creaked open and gently latched shut a moment later. A quiet amount of rustling went on behind him. Harry peeling his work clothes from his body, zipping and unzipping the bag he must have brought from his own flat, and carefully tiptoeing over to the bed.

The mattress dipped behind him as tired lips pressed to the bare curve of his shoulder. Harry sighed in relief as he curled in behind Louis, endlessly kissing the skin of his neck, and closing his arms around his tiny waist. Louis couldn’t help but smile at the feeling.

“Baby,” Harry softly kissed and whispered just below his ear, “Hey, I brought you something.” he rocked Louis’ body gently, trying to get him to wake up.

Just as he was about to peak over his shoulder, something gently tapped against the bottom of his nose, and invaded his senses with a fresh fragrance. Louis tilted his head back and looked down in front of him. A single long stem rose was held firmly in Harry’s palm. It was hard to tell just what shade it was, but Louis plucked it from Harry’s grasp, and carefully turned in his arms to face him.

“For me?” his eyes twinkled helplessly as Harry pulled him in by the waist, and greeted him with a kiss.

He tasted so sweet. A unique flavor Louis would be tethered to for the rest of his days.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve brought you home, flowers, innit?” his sleepy lips pressed against Louis’ once again. Eyes meeting in the minimal light and warm skin brushing beneath the sheets, “I was just going to let you wake up to it in the morning, and let you research the meaning for yourself, but I’m selfish, and I don’t want a flower telling my boyfriend what I’ve been dying to tell him, for myself.”

Louis’ heart swooped into his stomach at the implication, “What colour is this rose, then?”

“Red.”

The world went absolutely still around him. Louis _knew_ what a single red rose represented universally, and if Harry’s nervous tremble was anything to go by, he’d be willing to bet he was spot on. He gazed into Harry’s eyes as sweaty palms dug repeatedly into the curve of his hips. Harry’s breathing was labored and his heart was nearly pounding out of his chest. He was clearly nervous, and adorably so. Louis couldn’t help but beam up at his high strung energy, with fondness.

“I love you, Louis,” Harry spoke clear and deliberately, hardly batting a lash at the massive admission, “I think I’ve always known I loved you, but I was too afraid to even admit it to myself. I’m not scared anymore though, Lou. I love you—I’m so incredibly in love with you.”

Harry pushed Louis down into the mattress, covering his lips with his own, and wildly gripping at any part of Louis he could reach. He was mad with it. Overwhelmed with the freeing feeling of falling in love. Louis kissed back with vigor, wrapping his arms around Harry’s back, and clenching the rose between his grip.

“Harry,” Louis pulled back breathlessly, before his mouth was captured once again. Harry ground his body down against Louis’ and filthily licked into his mouth. It was so bloody _tempting_ to let him continue, but Louis had a few words for him, and wouldn’t rest until he heard them himself. He tapped his hand repeatedly against Harry’s back and deeply inhaled when Harry finally let him up for air, “Harry, I–I love you too.”

“Oh, baby,” he nearly whimpered, “Say it again, _please_.”

“I love you,” Louis thread his hand between Harry’s curls and brought him in for a kiss, “It’s nearly slipped my mouth so many times by now, and I think I’ve always known, as well.”

Harry laughed with joy as he found it difficult to keep his lips off of Louis. Kissing wherever his mouth could reach and whispering _I love you_ ’s gently across his skin. Louis pictured this exact moment in his mind plenty of times before. Painted wild scenarios of how their love for each other would be unveiled, and how they’d run away together, hand in hand, off into the sunset, but none of that could ever live up to this. Exhausted to the bone, just before the sunrise, and giggling into each others mouths. This was real. This was them. It was all the two of them would ever need.

“He loves me, he loves me, he _loves_ me,” Harry separated each phrase with a kiss to Louis’ face. He was so gone with the feeling and Louis was equally enthralled.

“I do.” Louis whispered against his lips, unintentionally slowing the pace, and bringing it down to a calmer level, “So full of love for you, darling, can’t wait to be just as full _of_ you.”

Harry laughed loud and brightly into the night, shaking his head at Louis’ filthy joke, and pressing their foreheads together, “You’re so naughty, sweetheart, m’gonna have to use that rose on you later,” he pressed a sweet kiss to Louis’ forehead, maneuvering himself onto his back, and rolling Louis to fit against his side, “But for now, we both need sleep. I know you waited up for me, even though I told you not to.” a smirk was evident in his words.

“M’sorry, I couldn’t help it. Love you too much.” it hardly made sense, but Harry ate it up, nonetheless.

“Love you too, baby. So much,” he plucked the rose from Louis’ hold, dropping it to his bedside table, and lacing his fingers between Louis’ instead. The room was silent, other than their hushed breathing, and the soft kisses pressed against Louis’ forehead. It was tranquil and fulfilling. Louis would be at rest within minutes, and just before he closed his eyes for good, he felt Harry whisper against his scalp, “I can’t wait for the rest of our lives together.”

Louis couldn’t either.

 

\--

 

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://www.smrwine.tumblr.com)


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